


Distant Embers

by Kairyn



Series: Hair Like Fire [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Appearances from Sansukh Characters, Arda Remade, Borrowed Ideas From Non-Canon Things, But it'll be an angst slog first, Celebrimbor Whump, Celevi, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Female Character of Color, Female Narvi, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Khelvi, Khelvi/Celevi, Poor Celebrimbor, Red-Haired Celebrimbor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/Kairyn
Summary: After Dagor Dagorath everything was supposed to be better. That was what was promised. But this... this is not better. Not even slightly. Because he was supposed to be here.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, for realz time.
> 
> Shadows of Mordor.... I has some issues with how the story line and characterization of it went. Buuuuut, some of the ideas presented were truly intriguing in their angsty potential. So, I'm not saying this is a fanfic of the game because there's hardly any of it in this but I will admit some of the ideas in this fic were inspired by the ones there. I don't consider Shadows of Mordor canon by the way hence the tag about non-canon things.
> 
> Also, don't know if smut is going to be in this. Really don't. I'll add the tag if it becomes a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with Beta Reading goodness!

The world reborn was beautiful in its untamed and fresh majesty. The forests were lush and huge, mountains full of ores and gems and towering miles into the cerulean sky, rivers were clear and crisp, and the wind always seemed to be carrying the scent of purity and cleanliness itself. Without a doubt, this was indeed the paradise they had been promised. Her hands itched, and her mind spun with centuries worth of ideas and designs she had been accumulating while waiting. The Dwarves wasted no time at all in beginning their work. There were so many wondrous raw materials to be had they were really rather spoiled for choice. They barely managed to travel ten miles from the entrance to Mahal’s mountain domain before beginning to tame the refreshed world around them.

Dwarves had been the first released onto the world, and their race was nothing if not industrious. They had already made significant progress in their work when the first of the Elves began to appear. Nobody seemed quite sure where exactly the Elves reappeared, but every morning a few would wander out of the woods as if they had simply taken a sunrise stroll. The Elves were as lovely and tall and flawless as they ever were. Beauty and grace still radiated from them, and they were undeniably still the First Born, but somehow everything about how the Dwarves _felt_ about them was different. There was still a touch of resentment there, but most of it had been washed away. Ill-will had softened. It was like they had woken up from a dream and all that had passed by in the last world was distant and honestly somewhat unimportant. They had plenty to do, and they were welcomed this time. What else was there to want?

Well, there were a few things.

For some of them.

Narvi kept her eyes peeled for any sign of flaming red hair on the Elves that were slowly reappearing. Every once and a while she would see some red hair out of the corner of her eye but would invariably be disappointed when it turned out to be a Firebeard or one of the few Elves that actually had red hair (not that theirs had quite the same flame-like quality his did). They were definitely not the one she was looking for. Narvi grew a bit annoyed as more and more Elves appeared and none of them was an annoyingly carefree legendary Smith. Was he distracted again? Climbing some massive tree and forgetting himself? Her eyebrow twitched at the very idea of it. It would be so entirely like him to get to Arda Reborn and immediately get sidetracked. Hadn't they promised they'd meet up again after Dagor Dagorath? She distinctly remembered he had made that promise as her mortal life ticked away year after year.

Waiting for flighty Elves to grace her with an appearance had never been one of Narvi's strong suits. At first, she busied herself with building projects. There were always plenty of things to construct as more and more Dwarves and Elves reappeared. Seeing how they all seemed to congregate in the same area a small settlement was in order, for at least temporary living arrangements. But after a few months, even her building couldn’t fully distract her from the absences of the Elf. So, Narvi went off looking for her wayward friend. She'd probably find him singing or humming and being an all around Elven pain in the arse.

Since there were no roads to choose, she followed the river that cut around the Eastern edge of the town and then flowed to the south. The river branched off after several miles, and she picked one at random to follow. Narvi followed the river, which was shrinking in size with every mile it felt like until it came to a cliff and toppled over the edge in a modest waterfall. Luckily, the cliff was not particularly large. She only had to hike a little over a hundred yards to where the rock face had collapsed forming a rather easy way down for her to climb. 

When she got to the base of the cliff, Narvi went back to the waterfall. She stepped back for a moment and actually considered what it was she was looking at. On this side, cliff itself was just large enough for one of their doors, and Celebrimbor's designs would look quite stunning sitting beside the waterfall and glowing in the moonlight through the mists. The hill was large enough for a single Dwarf to find acceptable for a modest home and workshop but small enough that any construction could easily be built up high enough to breach the top of said hill. It could even possibly be formed into a tower of some sort with a balcony or two so Celebrimbor could be surrounded by that nature stuff he was so enamored with. And he loved views from high above the ground, which was why he climbed trees so damned often. The waterfall cut into the cliff formed a roiling pool rather closer to the size of a small pond. At the Southeastern corner of the pool, a stream flowed towards the cliff and then made a loop to disappear into the forest. The water’s curving path left just enough space beside the cliff face for a Holly tree or two and perhaps a stone bridge to cross over the water (though admittedly the bridge wasn’t truly necessary since it was shallow). Narvi shook her head though the image she'd sketched in her mind stayed with her. 

The spot she’d found was really quite a perfect little corner of the world. Many places in Arda Remade were picturesque, but this one called out to her. The small cliff and waterfall had so much potential in so many different ways. There was also the added benefit of it not being where everyone else was. Of course first, she would need to find the Elf, half of the things she had planned were really more his crafts than hers. Putting that all aside for the moment Narvi travelled on.

She searched through the woods and hills and mountains until she stopped seeing anyone, Elves or Dwarves, and then headed back to town to resupply. She was sure that even Celebrimbor wouldn't have ventured so far. She would just have to wait for him to show up then. He must not have been let loose yet. Annoying but there wasn't much she could do about it. Apparently, Mandos was only letting out a handful of deceased Elves at a time. She had just sort of assumed that Celebrimbor, being the master craftsman he was, would be released relatively early.

Narvi was asked to design a few more buildings for the town, and she did so, though, she didn’t stay to oversee the construction of them. After gathering up supplies and tools, Narvi went back to her spot and started carving out the cliff face. The whole cliff was made of nice solid rock and had a good firm footing in the world. She was certain she’d never seen the type of rock before and, though it wasn't as magnificent as some of the stones she had seen, it had a sort of honesty about it from its simplicity. The nature of the rock appealed greatly to her.

The days ticked by and turned into months and she focused her mind and restless hands to carving out the inside of the cliff and heading down into the ground beneath. She'd discovered a small cave under the cliff when she was carving out a stairwell. The cavern had a little pond made from the water seeping down from the waterfall and pool above, and some interesting rock formations had occurred there that she was already sketching ideas for. However, Narvi could only be distracted for so long, unlike Celebrimbor. 

She went wandering again and found other treasures both natural ones scattered about the Remade Wilds and treasures that had been crafted by the returning people. Once she swore she even found an artifact of Arda Marred although it was so crumbled away from time and weather she had to admit there was a possibility of a margin for error. The world was growing before her eyes as the Dwarves and Elves plied their skills. Narvi eventually made her way back to the town purely because she needed more supplies and found it was quickly growing into an actual city. Most of the Reborn peoples of Arda stayed in the city or at least nearby so that they could gather there if need be. The city was right by the base of Mahal’s giant mountain, and the river that it was beside seemed to lead from wherever it was Mandos Halls were as Elves tended to find the settlement through following the water. Where Mandos’ Halls actually were, no Elf seemed to be able to adequately explain, and the few that had tried made it sound, to Narvi anyway, that they simply woke up in the middle of nowhere and just wandered until they found the river or another person. The method sounded very inefficient to Narvi, but she wasn’t a Valar, so maybe there was some strange method behind it that she couldn’t understand. Or maybe Mandos just found Elves wandering around aimlessly to be funny. She could see that too. 

The more Narvi worked on her projects at home, the more frustrating the distance to town became, however. While she had deliberately picked a spot further from the rest of the reborn populace than most would, travelling back and forth with building materials and other supplies was tedious. A trip to get more food would easily end up taking the craftswoman three days round trip (partially because she didn’t have a horse or pony, but she wasn’t looking to change that fact). So, after a few more months of being forced to take long breaks for supply runs, Narvi decided to make use of the water. 

She’d never actually designed a boat before but the concept was simple enough and Narvi quickly had a barge plan that would carry most anything she would need. Once it was all drafted, Narvi had it built in only a few days time. The boat was powered by steam, and she found using the boat much more enjoyable than a large pack animal, no matter how many looks she got the first time she took it back to town.

With the barge to speed along her supply runs, Narvi’s progress on her home picked up pace. She'd built the bridge first and then started on the tower with the rock she was excavating from the rest of the cliff. The more time passed, the more anxious Narvi was becoming. Surely, Celebrimbor had to be around by this point, she thought. How long could Mandos keep his grip on the redhead, anyway? She made a habit of going back to the city to look for Celebrimbor once every few weeks and grew more and more annoyed as she didn't see him. She had already been here so long and done so much, and he was... nowhere? He always had liked shifting stonework onto her shoulders, not that he could possibly know she had stonework for them to do.

She did as much as could do by herself. The doors were working but plain and her large workshop was well used. The tower was built but unfurnished as were most of the below ground living quarters. She had busied herself with intricate carvings along the insides of the chambers, but she was quickly running out of useable space since she didn't want to overcrowd the walls with too many angles making it appear overly busy. She ran out of stonework (or at least the designs she was adamant about) and so moved onto other things. The entryway, by virtue of being the entryway, got her attention for a while along with her forge and other common areas though she still had yet to fill all the spaces with furniture. Her workshop churned out lamps and silverwork, and even a few interesting household mechanisms that she knew would amuse Celebrimbor whenever he finally showed up. One of her personal favorites was a boiler that used its own steam signal what temperature the water would be when the tap was turned. She’d even turned the signal into a series of geometric birds in a rare moment of whimsy. Celebrimbor would no doubt find it absolutely delightful, she’d have to design a more Elven version for him to use.

She tried woodworking and was unsatisfied with her attempts. Celebrimbor was better at that, but she tried anyway only because she wouldn't give up on a project and Narvi knew he'd appreciate certain things done in wood rather than stone or metal. She still wasn't happy with it. Her attempts at a wooden floor for the entry hall turned out much better, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the Elf would appreciate the time it had taken. Where in Mahal's name was Celebrimbor?

An obscene amount of time passed by, and still, she was waiting. Narvi waited until she spotted Elves that she knew for a fact died after Celebrimbor had. Then she grew angrier that he hadn't appeared. The waiting was getting downright ridiculous. He _should_ be here by now and driving her insane with his flightiness rather than his continued absence. Could she still die of old age, she wondered. She’d never been one to pay attention to all the mysticism and prophecies about Arda Remade so she couldn’t rightly remember if it was ever brought up at all. If she could, then they were wasting limited time. Again. That was far less than satisfying.

Narvi made her way back to the city to start looking for answers. Absently she took note of how the town was developing over the years. The clash of aesthetic ideals of Dwarves and Elves had lead to a rather lackluster –almost mannish- city that, while still growing and developing was struggling a bit to find its own identity. Part of her wanted to offer advice, but the city also wasn’t even close to her top priority. Narvi shook her head a bit and turned her attention fully back to the streets when she spotted a familiar face. He was obnoxiously tall, even for an Elf, with long golden hair that seemed to be the very essence of the sun. He was drinking an ale and appeared to be in his usual good spirits. She went straight up to him and stopped directly in front of the Elf. "Glorfindel."

"Ah, Narvi! It has been so long. You look well," he greeted cheerfully. Glorfindel had only met Narvi perhaps twice while he was visiting Celebrimbor while he was in Hollin and just after his famed reincarnation. But Glorfindel had always been easy to approach and talk with despite his impressive reputation. It helped that –like Celebrimbor- he seemed to have a fondness for Dwarves. Or at the very least no amount of ill will.

Narvi didn't bother with small talk. She was, as usual, in no mood for it. "Have you heard anything about Khelebrimbor?"

His smile fell instantly. "Ah," he glanced down at his ale contemplatively. "Am I the first you've asked, Narvi?"

"Yes, why?"

Glorfindel frowned and then sighed. "Because I'd rather not be the first to tell you about the rumors," he admitted. Narvi's eyes narrowed. Rumors? What was this now? "Nobody has heard or seen Celebrimbor since... what happened." Glorfindel wasn't usually one for Elven obscurity, but he didn't want to actually speak of the horrible things that had happened to Celebrimbor. They had been friends once, and it was painful to know what horrors he’d endured.

“What rumors, Glorfindel?” Narvi demanded.

The golden haired Elf sighed and straightened. He didn’t want to say it, but he wasn’t about to shy away from tough conversations either. Someone had to tell her, and it might as well be him. “Nobody has seen him,” Glorfindel admitted. “Not even in the Halls of Mandos. Some say that after his death… he became a wraith.”

Narvi’s eyes flashed. “That’s impossible! Khel would never allow himself to become something so foul!”

Glorfindel held up a hand. “I am merely telling you the rumors. It is said that his Fëa never returned to the Halls. Nobody seems to recall it happening and if it is true that he did not return, for whatever reason… he would have but one fate,” he explained. “If the rumors have truth in them… Celebrimbor cannot be reborn in this new Arda,” he murmured.

“Well, it’s not true!” Narvi snapped. She _knew_ Celebrimbor. He wouldn’t have been one of those twisted Fëa that wished to possess the living. He wasn’t a selfish person. He’d been _tortured_ to death for trying to keep others safe! Narvi didn’t wait for Glorfindel to try and say anything else and hiked right back towards the mountain she had left after Dagor Dagorath. She knew precisely who would be able to tell her what had happened to Celebrimbor. Mahal would know. He’d loved the Noldor. He wouldn’t have let their greatest Smith pass and then simply disappear! Her maker would tell her the truth!

Reentering the Halls of Mahal after being allowed to exit wasn’t really done, but Narvi didn’t care and as far as she knew there were no direct rules against doing so. And even if there were; this was a new world, and it had new rules. One no longer needed to be dead to enter their maker’s halls. The mountain was just another place. Well, not just _any_ other place, of course. But it was one she could enter and leave without too much difficulty.

Dwarves looked at her in confusion as she passed by at a fast clip but she didn’t so much as glance at them. She didn’t care if she caused mutterings and concern. This was far more important. Besides, she’d never been one to care what other people thought anyway. 

The Halls had always seemed to stretch out and twist to make room where there rightly shouldn’t be any. It was a living breathing thing, this mountain, and even existing in it for ages had not helped her map out the impossibility of it any better, though. Still, she was mildly surprised when she rounded a corner and came to the large door that separated Mahal’s Forge from his Halls. Narvi was sure the doors should have been much further into the mountain. Was it her desire to speak with her maker that brought him close or did the mountain just change to suit her needs whatever they were? Nobody ever had figured out how the inside of the mountain worked. With a shake of her head, Narvi pushed through the confusion and entered the Forge. 

Mahal didn’t seem surprised to see her but then he never really did. For all that Mahal was awe inspiring and whatever he was working on undoubtedly amazing, despite her own love of the craft and her creator, Narvi bluntly forged ahead with her own purpose. “Where is he?”

The great craftsman of the Valar didn’t look up from his expansive drafting table and gleaming tools but neither did he pretend to not know what she was talking about. He could read the questions burning in his child easily enough. “My child, it is difficult to explain,” he answered without really answering or even looking up from whatever new marvel he was planning. 

“Please,” Narvi said, stepping forward a few more steps. “I know Khel wouldn’t have become a wraith. I know it. Just tell me… where is he? Why hasn’t he been reborn yet?”

The sigh that escaped from Mahal was like the hiss of steam that escaped the quenching of hot metal. Such a sigh worried her immensely, but she refused to think about the possibilities. Mahal put down his pen and finally turned towards where the craftswoman was all but demanding his attention. “I am afraid that I do not know where Celebrimbor is,” he admitted. “He is not of my making.”

“But he will be reborn,” Narvi insisted.

The silence in the workshop was unnatural and long. Narvi wanted that silence to end even if she had to start yelling just to fill it. “In his anger at Celebrimbor’s defiance, Mairon did many a horrible, unforgivable thing,” Mahal said. His words were soft and yet thunderously loud all at once. Narvi forced herself to stay standing there though she had to clench her fist and fight a knot in her throat. 

“I saw,” she managed to croak. She had been watching over her dear friend uselessly and furious as he died from their relentless torture. The memory of his broken body being played with for their amusement still brought forth scorching fury and bone-chilling sorrow. 

Mahal’s mighty head shook slightly. “You saw but the fate of his physical body, my child.”

There was a heavy pause before what he meant sunk into Narvi’s mind. Instantly she shook her head in denial. “No! He wouldn’t have become something so foul! I know him!”

Her maker’s fierce eyes closed for a moment and when they opened, they were full of a terrible sadness. “I am afraid, he was not given a choice.”

This time Narvi could not force her legs to stay stable. She sunk to the ground, her head shaking in denial. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. “He… he wouldn’t have…” she muttered. In her mind, he was a bright, intelligent creature who played with Dwarflings and climbed trees and refused to braid his hair. Not some twisted mockery of life that blindly obeyed the darkness.

“He fought,” Mahal said. She supposed that was meant to comfort her. It did not. “But the longer his Fëa was kept away from Mandos’ Halls, the more of himself he lost…”

Narvi felt the burn of tears and shook her head again. “Khel wouldn’t have followed _him_ ,” she hissed. She wouldn’t even deem him worthy enough to name. Not after all he had done. No matter what that monster had done, Khel wouldn’t have obeyed such a master. She knew it in her very soul.

“No,” Mahal agreed. “He did not follow my student. He tried to rebel even after he had lost most of his own mind and body. He had a truly impressive will.”

“So then can’t you make some sort of exception?” Narvi demanded. No matter what had been done to him, the horrors he’d endured, Celebrimbor had obviously kept fighting. The tears seeped into her beard, but she ignored them. Even after such a-a-a violation, he had fought that bastard! Surely he deserved this peace more than anyone after that!

There was an uncomfortable pause before Mahal spoke again, “I am afraid… Sauron’s punishment for Celebrimbor’s rebellion was banishment into the void. We will never be able to retrieve his Fëa after such a thing.”

Narvi shook her head. “There has to be something that you can do! He doesn’t deserve this…” She wiped the tears off her face and braided beard as best she could and with no small amount of anger. “H-how… how could you and the rest of the Valar just… let this happen to him?” She didn’t know if it was right or even fair to ask such a thing of her maker, but she couldn’t help it. After everything Celebrimbor had suffered through, to allow him to be lost was just… unbearable. Unacceptable.

A massive hand came to rest on her head. It was warm and comforting but didn’t do much to actually ease the pain coming from her chest. She felt the loving warmth enveloping her from Mahal even as she struggled to not let any more tears fall. She wasn’t as successful as she’d like. Her nearly strangled sobs, which she kept trying desperately to cut off, were the only noise in the celestial forge and her maker allowed her the grief.

* * *

Mahal hated seeing his children upset. He truly did. “I cannot promise to bring him back,” he told her. “But I shall consult my brethren and see if there is anything at all to be done.” Mahal wasn’t entirely certain she had heard him as she was very nearly asleep, tired from her own sorrow. He gathered her up carefully and returned her to her half-finished home. The Valar was silent as he laid her down on her bed. But when he noticed a very Elvish hair clasp sitting on her bedside table he paused and looked at it thoughtfully. Mahal could read every part of his children easily since he had made them. Elves were not so simple as he had no claim over the First Born. But the Noldor had indeed been his favorite of the Elven branches despite the pains they had suffered. Celebrimbor’s fate had not rested well with him either though he knew that some things just couldn’t be undone.

His powerful gaze shifted from the clasp to his child resting uneasily on the bed, and he leaned forward to rest a comforting hand on her brow. Even as her creator he could only ease her pain and sorrow so much. “Rest now,” he murmured to her, and she settled slightly. “For the love I have for the both of you, I will see what can be done.” He couldn’t promise anything. Many ages had passed, and Celebrimbor’s Fëa was sure to have suffered massive wounds that Mahal doubted would ever fully be healed, but he would try. Perhaps with the help of the others, he could find most of Celebrimbor and put him back together. Fixing a soul beyond broken was something that even the Valar of Crafts himself was unsure was possible, but they could only try. With that, Mahal vanished from Narvi’s home to consult with his brethren.


	2. Chapter 2

Narvi woke in her own bed the next morning, which was mildly surprising as she hadn’t remembered falling asleep or even coming home on her own. Mahal must have sent her back. She sat there in bed for quite some time and tried to fully process the unpleasant news that Mahal had given her. She hadn’t been prepared in the least to hear what she had, and it just refused to settle in her mind. Narvi had spent centuries believing that Celebrimbor’s torment had ended when his body finally succumbed to his wounds in that horrible dungeon. That he would be resting and recovering in Mandos’ halls with the rest of his kin that had perished from the curse on their line. But now she finds out that he hadn’t even been granted that small reprieve. The knowledge was a red-hot iron splinter in her mind that she couldn’t seem to douse. 

She turned herself to her crafting, an all-consuming purpose that had always helped in the past. It took her a week to actually finish anything. She tried to create some new clock mechanics and quickly decided the project was an abject failure. She melted all the gears and springs down almost instantly. She tried again, and again, was displeased with the results of her time. Deciding that her mind was just too jumbled to turn anything into something functional or beautiful she instead grabbed her travelling gear and headed out into the wilds with no particular destination in mind. 

There were mountains not too far away to the West that she had found in her first travels, and so she went there. Exploring the cliffs and caves that were tucked away in the granite of the mountains was something that she could do without thinking too hard. Nearly a week of hiking through the mountains, near the very tip of the range, she came across a colony of Dwarves from her days in Khazad-dûm that were only too happy to show her the new and improved version that they were already beginning to construct. Though there was a place for them to stay in the city by the entrance to Mahal’s Halls, some still would prefer to be on their own away from Elves. Many Dwarves felt the need to live with tons and tons of mountain as their roof. Narvi knew that some Elves as well had moved off from that first city to create their own forest dwellings. It wasn’t too surprising, Elves and Dwarves were simply built to appreciate different things. 

The Dwarves rebuilding the mountain halls were only too eager to offer her a place with them. Narvi was hesitant but ended up staying anyway. At the very least she could get her mind back on crafting while she helped them excavate. Excavation required a different sort of problem-solving than invention and craft did. The change in pace may suit her.

The Dwarves had named their new capital Khazad-Masmur and had already created a massive front gate with a harkening to Erebor. Huge statues of Dwarven Warriors stood proudly beside the gates that were embellished with no small amount of gold. The rest of the Khazad-Masmur was nowhere near as impressive as the front entrance, but Narvi knew that would only take time. Already she had been told that they were planning two other gates, one high on the mountain peak, and another on the other side. The leaders of the city tried to ask for her to make a door for one of those entrances but Narvi staunchly refused and told them she’d find her own task to do.

She stayed with the Dwarves of Khazad-Masmur for nearly two whole years just quietly working on the simple task of clearing out a single massive chamber for a grand hall to rival those of her old home. The hundreds of towering pillars had taken several dozen Dwarves many months to hew. Once the general size and shape had been achieved, and the surfaces smoothed back down, Narvi started on the actual design. It was a classic design she had used countless of times before and so it took her little time or even effort to mark out the sharp angles and lines. She didn’t do much of the actual carving as there were plenty of stonemasons around that could follow her marks. She also seemed to have accumulated fans who loved to watch her work, which she had always found mildly annoying, but she tolerated.

When Narvi began to feel restless again, she decided to venture on again. Returning to the surface, she was taken aback to see that her wanderlust had coincided with the first true snowmelt. Normally, the weather in Arda Remade was beautiful with near-constant mild temperatures and clear skies. Occasionally it did rain but thinking back she couldn’t recall actual storms. Nor could she remember ever seeing snow before except for the white caps of mountains. Narvi kicked at a snowdrift experimentally and wasn’t really surprised to find it light and powdery. The snow on the ground was the perfect type for playing in if one was so inclined to play in the snow. Narvi was not and just shifted her bag on her back and began to hike in a randomly chosen direction.

She had no destination in mind and yet she found herself standing in front of her half finished abode. She was a little surprised and also a bit annoyed. She hadn’t _wanted_ to come back here, and she didn’t appreciate her subconscious deciding to bring her without her say so. The doors to her home had stayed firmly shut in her absence. She just stared at the spot she knew her doors were placed despite there being no indication of them. Early morning frost still clung to the surface and the sun hitting it made the stone sparkle as if it were covered in diamond powder. Or star dust.

She turned and began to wander off again. Narvi only got a few steps before stopping where she was. The craftswoman stared down at the snow melting into the creek with a slight frown. She was being silly. What exactly would leaving accomplish? 

She might not want to be in this place, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go either. Wandering wasn’t making her feel any better. She wanted nothing more than to walk away but she must keep coming back to this spot for a reason. Rarely in her life or death had Narvi ever had to deal with any amount of indecision. She’d always known what she wanted and what her path would be. If she knew what she wanted but not how to get it Narvi puzzled it out until she did and that rarely took much time. 

Narvi hated moping. She considered it a waste of valuable time. And yet, here she was doing just that. She was annoyed with herself. With a huff, Narvi spun around and trudged back to the cliff face.

It hurt more than she felt that it had any right to when she finally opened the door and entered the greeting chamber that also served as the first floor of the tower. The room was empty, and dust had built up on the floor. She frowned as she looked at the ornate pattern there. She had put quite a lot of time into it and had been rather proud at the time. The floor was a deliberate mix of carved paving stones and inlaid wooden accents. Combining the two materials had been satisfyingly challenging and incredibly rewarding when she’d managed to find a geometric pattern that went well with the curve of the chamber. She knew Celebrimbor would have liked how the different materials looked when mixed together.

Narvi fully entered the room so that the large double doors closed behind her finally. The room was thrown instantly into darkness. Luckily, Narvi already had several sconces mounted on the walls of the half circular room so it only took her a few moments to fix that. Narvi dropped her bag by the wall beside the staircase that spiraled down to her workspace and quarters before taking one of the torches from the wall and going to light the rest of her home. 

She took her time in checking to see if she actually had food stores and relighting the fires of her forge, but it was all simply something to do. She spent most of the day partially regretting her decision to come inside while she automatically cleaned up her workshop so that she could use it later if the mood finally struck. Eventually though, Narvi decided she should unpack her bag, which she’d left upstairs. With a sigh, she returned to the entry hall. The hour was late, and despite knowing she should unpack and go to bed, she was feeling restless. 

Leaving the bag where it was, she ascended the staircase that coiled upwards into the area she had intended for Celebrimbor. All the floors were circular above the ground floor. Circles had been a new shape for her and one with which she had enjoyed a lot of experimentation. 

She made her way up the tightly spiraling stairs to the top level of the tower, which formed an observatory. The roof was an all glass dome held together with the carefully wrought metal framework. The glass built up a surprising amount of heat during the day though perhaps in winter, especially now that the sun had set, it was still a little on the cold side. The coldness was probably not helped by the fact that the room was entirely empty. She had built it for Celebrimbor and had no idea what to do with it now. She considered just tearing the whole tower down. What was the point of having something she no longer intended –nor had the heart- to finish? But she couldn’t make herself tear it down either. That would be like admitting defeat in a way and –if she were honest- she didn’t want to destroy what she had built for him. Perhaps bricking shut the stairway to the tower and try not to dwell on the empty space would be an acceptable alternative. 

Narvi stepped out of the diamond-shaped stairwell that ascended straight through the center of the tower and looked up. Through the glass ceiling, she could see the riotous stream of stars streaked across the sky. The moon was bright and shining, but even it couldn’t block out the endless array of twinkling lights beyond. She stared up at the sight that was worthy of more than one song for quite some time. The tower did provide a very nice view at least.

The craftswoman absentmindedly ran through the various constellations that still hung in the sky even after Dagor Dagorath until she heard a strange noise behind her. Her mind quickly cycled through the different sounds in her memory. The faint sound was similar to that of bells or perhaps chimes but not exactly. Birdsong came to mind as well, but the unfamiliar noise wasn’t varied enough in pitch or speed for birds to be making it. Narvi turned around and looked for the source. There was a faint light coming from around the corner of the stairwell. Very curious now, Narvi slowly circled the stairs to see what the cause of the odd sound and light was.

There, lying on the carved stone floor of Celebrimbor’s Observatory, was a shimmering ball of light. The thing was almost as if one of the bright stars had fallen down from the sky. She frowned at the glowing flickering object in confusion. How had it even gotten inside? What was it for that matter? Real stars didn’t fall silently and peacefully or stay glimmering after they landed, but she also couldn’t think of what would look like this. 

Curiosity piqued; Narvi moved forward and knelt down beside the thing. The ball of light couldn’t be larger than her fist and flickered unsteadily, as if struggling to stay alight. Perhaps due to the large tears that Narvi could see through the shine. She hadn’t thought light could split, but she didn’t have any other way to describe what she was seeing. There was nothing but blackness beyond the holes in the light, and for some reason, that worried her. 

She wasn’t at all sure what would happen if she picked the little ball up or even if she could, to begin with, but leaving it here alone on the floor didn’t even occur to her. Cautiously, Narvi slowly moved her hand towards the starlight. She had a strong gift for Fire Touch so she hoped that would protect her should this prove to be a terrible idea. The light almost seemed to shift away from her hand, and Narvi paused in her approach. She tried again once the light appeared to slow in its flickering. Her fingers gently brushed over the light and was a little surprised to find it had a faint amount of warmth. She’d half expected for her calloused fingers to pass right through the shard of light, but they didn’t.

She couldn’t feel any actual weight or substance in her hand as she slowly picked the light ball up and yet she could, in fact, hold the light. The little ball flickered almost desperately, and she wrapped her other hand around the light as well so that the ethereal thing would be secure. The starlight glowed softly and seemed to be struggling to stay lit, almost like a candle in a draft. She wasn’t sure why the light flickered so much, but the tears deep inside seemed to be growing slightly as the sputtering continued. Despite knowing there wasn’t any wind in the room, Narvi brought the light closer to herself in an effort to keep it from going out. When the ball guttered worse at the less than smooth motion, Narvi cursed softly and held it close. “Sorry,” she said before realizing there was no evidence the light understood anything, much less talking. 

Looking closer at the gaping spaces of not-light, Narvi couldn’t help but think that the small star was injured. Terribly injured. The way the light fluttered in her hand reminded her too of an injured bird trying to move around desperately. Not necessarily fighting to get away just unable to be still while in pain. After a moment, the light seemed to settle and glow a bit stronger where it was against her sternum so Narvi figured that keeping the sphere near was actually helping a little.

Narvi wondered if there was something else she could do. Perhaps fix the light so that the tears were gone. She’d never fixed light before, but she could certainly try. Careful to not move too quickly this time, Narvi got to her feet and went back downstairs. Though she had put sconces all through the lower levels of her house, there weren’t any yet in the stairwell. The only light was coming from the one she was carefully holding. Everything was cast in a silvery glow from the sphere in her hands and was just barely bright enough to light the next two stairs before her, and Narvi wondered how much more brilliant the star would be if not wounded.

The craftswoman made her way straight to her workshop. If there was any fixing to be done, that was where such things usually happened. Narvi paused at the doorway to her shop however while her eyes flicked from the forge to the light and then back to the forge again. What if she were completely wrong and a fire was the wrong way to handle all of this? She could hurt her little light even worse if that were the case. Narvi winced some at the thought. She sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen, but she had few other options.

Narvi went to where the coals were burning brightly and was about to carefully place the light inside when she froze. Could she even put the sphere down? Would the light disappear completely if she did? 

She decided that was a risk she had to take because she would be forced to put the light down eventually. With a very careful move, Narvi gently put the light down amid the coals of her forge. The light sputtered, and though it didn’t disappear, Narvi wasn’t happy with the results either. The coals didn’t seem to be doing anything at all. Not even trying to use the billows on them had helped, if anything that had been mildly terrifying as the light had guttered again. 

She gave the coals another moment but when the fragment didn’t seem to improve, Narvi carefully gathered the light back up again. What else could possibly help, she wondered? She wasn’t exactly an expert on torn starlight. Should she wrap the sphere in some way? Or would that smother the light entirely like it would an actual flame?

Narvi cradled the light close. She felt inexplicably responsible for the struggling starlight. She didn’t want to accidentally injure the thing worse. Narvi stood there for several moments just thinking. Slowly she became aware that her hands were beginning to feel colder than normal. She looked down at the Starlight curiously. Was it just her imagination or was the flickering a little less frantic now? The rips and tears were still within the core of light, and that was worrisome, but the sphere did indeed seem slightly more stable. Perhaps body heat was needed to keep the starlight from going out. Narvi had no idea why starlight would prefer body heat to the heat of her forge, but then again what did Narvi know about such things in the first place?

Well, the light seemingly wanting body heat wouldn’t be too much of a problem except for the fact that she was beginning to grow tired. Narvi made her way to her bedroom. She kept her eyes glued to the shard of starlight in case it began to struggle again. If Narvi was right and the light was somehow using her own warmth, Narvi couldn’t really risk putting the sphere down somewhere. What if, lacking her beside it, the weak light flickered out entirely? She would feel downright horrid. Narvi did very much want to go to sleep, though.

Narvi sat down on her bed and held the struggling thing close until the flashing and sputtering of the light had calmed although the flickering never disappeared entirely. Still not sure what the light even was or what to do with it or how to help, Narvi decided to finish wondering about it tomorrow. Perhaps the answer would come to her once she’d had some proper rest. 

_My Child. This, I’m afraid, has been all that we could manage. It will not be the same for parts could not be recovered even with our best attempts. But, there are parts left, and though they are damaged, they are better than nothing at all. The rest, however, is up to you. The effort it took to do even this much was more costly than we expected and we must rest for a time. I am, however, certain that even without further help you will be able to mend the damage that has been done._

When Narvi woke the next morning, those words that she heard while in the twilight of awake and asleep lingered in her mind along with no small amount of confusion. She recognized the impossible quality of her Maker’s voice in the words she had heard, but they didn’t make sense. And then she opened her eyes to realize that the wounded starlight she had fallen asleep cradling was no longer an insubstantial thing. Instead, she was cradling a wild head of red hair against her chest.

Her breath caught at the sight of the familiar but different Elf curled against her on the too-short bed. He was gaunt and his skin ashen and drawn. His hair was as vibrant and lustrous as ever but a mess of tangles and snarls. His too thin body was naked and trembling slightly and, she saw scars across what had before been flawlessly creamy skin. Where they were curled in her shirt, Narvi saw that his once elegant and skilled fingers were now crooked from being broken long ago. The glow that she remembered coming from him was now so faint as to nearly not be there at all. Tears burned in her eyes and throat as she quickly pulled a nearby blanket over his nakedness. The trembling eased slightly as she wrapped her arms tighter around him in an attempt at comfort. 

Mahal’s words now made sense. He had found Celebrimbor. Or, as much of him as could be found. “It’s alright,” she murmured. “I’m here now, Khel.” He didn’t make any indication to have heard her, but that was alright. She wasn’t even sure that he was conscious at the moment.

Tears burned in her eyes and dripped down her cheeks as she curled around his head protectively. “I won’t let anything else hurt you, Khel. I promise.” Again he didn’t react to the soft words. Narvi didn’t know how she was going to help him yet or how different he’d be from the Elf she had once known but she had him back. That was far more than she’d thought she’d get after what Mahal had said. And here, in this reborn world, they had nothing but time and peace to help him recover from all the injustice that had befallen him. She imagined, from the sight of the terrible wounds in the light she’d cradled last night, it would take hard work and patience to help him. Narvi didn’t mind though. If there was one thing she’d never shied away from it was difficult tasks. Hard work and patience was necessary for all of her work and she would apply it here as well.

For right that second though, she was content to just lay there with him and hold him close. Tender wasn’t a trait that many would apply to her but she would scrape as much of it together as she could and give it all to him. He deserved it anyway. She brushed her fingers through the gnarls of his hair and felt his trembles slowly cease and the tension that had been in his body slowly ease. His fingers tightened their grip on her shirt although she noted –with quite a bit of fury- that the grip was nowhere near as strong as it once was. The crookedness of the breaks and the thinness of his body had stolen it away. She would bring his strength back though, even if his fingers couldn’t be fixed fully she would get him healthy again. “I swear I will, Khel. I’ll make you better again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to draw this out with a missing Khel for a long time, don't worry. It's going to be hard enough healing his trauma we don't need chapters and chapters of him missing too.
> 
> And yes, basically Narvi made Celebrimbor a green-house observatory on top of the tower. Because she's sweet despite what she says and knew that Khel would love it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter but a less angsty one because I need to break it up a little.

Ever since she found out about Celebrimbor’s fate, Narvi had had trouble sleeping peacefully. The reason always came back down to one very distressing dream. 

_She was running through the forest in a blind panic. All the trees looked the bloody same, and she couldn’t figure out where to go! What made it worse was that he was gone! He shouldn’t be gone! She ran and opened her mouth to call for him when she abruptly stopped. Who was she even looking for?_

It was usually right around there that she woke up. She recognized instantly that she was dreaming of trying to find Celebrimbor. Outside of the haze of her dream, her mind was working just as well as it always had. The list of people she’d go running off into the woods for was very slim indeed.

That night though, wrapped protectively around his head, Narvi hadn’t dreamed. In fact, her mind had been blissfully empty. When she woke up, she realized that she wasn’t the only one who was awake. Celebrimbor hadn’t gotten up from where he had appeared curled awkwardly on a bed sized for a Dwarf, but his blue eyes were focused on some indiscriminate point on the wall, not somewhat hazy as an Elf in Reverie. “Khel!” He didn’t look up at her and, in fact, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

Narvi frowned and reluctantly sat up. Celebrimbor stayed curled around where she had been laying and didn’t seem to notice she had moved. She frowned and reached down to brush her fingers through his hair. The strands caught around her fingers and snagged on the edges of her calloused fingers, but she went slowly and gently untangled the mad snarls her fingers came across. Celebrimbor flinched once or twice when her fingers occasionally caught a little more than she’d intended, but nothing more. After a few moments of little progress with his hair, Narvi decided to let the tangles be and instead focus on getting Celebrimbor warmed up. Even with the blanket around him, she could tell he was icy cold.

“Khel, come on with me… we need to get you cleaned up,” Narvi said as she got off of the bed and gently took his poor broken hands in hers. He didn’t go with her and instead stayed still. She frowned and gave another small tug. “Come on, Celebrimbor. You’ll feel better if you’re cleaned up.” She wasn’t sure if that was strictly true as he didn’t look particularly dirty, but sometimes a nice hot bath soothed the mind as much as the body.

After several more insistent tugs and comforting words, Celebrimbor finally allowed himself to be moved. However, standing seemed entirely beyond his abilities at the moment. Narvi ended up having to dump out the contents of her clothes hamper and use the oversized basket to drag him into the next room. When Narvi finally had gotten Celebrimbor into the washroom, she couldn’t help but frown. She wished she’d gotten closer to finishing the room. All that there really was in the space was a tub, a furnace for heating water, and a chamber pot. Having something beyond the bare necessities might have helped to bring the Celebrimbor around. Narvi wished again she’d dedicated more time to do something productive rather than the frankly frustrating moping she had been doing. It wasn’t like her to leave things half finished.

Narvi went over to the boiler and started the process of heating the water for Celebrimbor’s bath. One of the first jobs she had given herself after excavating had been in the construction of a deep well for water. Over the years she had been gone, it had no doubt filled without problem. Sure enough, the vacuum system she had designed to draw up water had no problem whatsoever and the boiler went to work. While that was going, she gathered up the largest towels that she had and new soap. 

Finding the various items where she had stashed them took a solid five minutes since she so rarely bothered with them. Narvi usually just used what came out of her travel pack on the now rare time that she was at home. Just as she was putting the fresh soap on the tray beside the bath, the valves on the boiler started to whistle in a passable imitation of the birds they resembled. Celebrimbor turned his head slightly as if trying to listen to something he couldn’t quite make out. “It’s the pipes,” Narvi offered, but the Elf still didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on. Narvi waited for a moment, but Celebrimbor didn’t react again so Narvi went to get the Elf into the bath.

Getting Celebrimbor into the tub was an exercise. The Elf wasn’t heavy, to the contrary, he was waif-like, but he did have long limbs that didn’t cooperate when Narvi tried to lift him. Narvi didn’t have to carry him far, but even a short distance had her cursing. “Damn naked elf, all long pale limbs, and other bits!” Narvi fumed as she finally got him settled, her dark ears all but glowing from the heat of her embarrassment. Celebrimbor didn’t react, but then Narvi wasn’t all that surprised by that. Even when he had been himself Celebrimbor had been frustratingly shameless about bathing and nudity, he probably wouldn’t have cared to be so exposed to her. Narvi shook off her embarrassment as best she could and lowered the pipe that fed the now heated water into the tub.

Celebrimbor jumped a little as the water splashed into the tub he was sitting in but didn’t get out. He seemed almost confused but Narvi was beyond glad to see him blink and then his eyes move from nothing to the water and then up to the pipe. There was a glint of his old self in his eyes as he followed the pipe back to the furnace and lingered there, as if trying to puzzle out how it worked from only seeing the outside casing. Then his gaze landed on the metal birds and stuck there. Narvi could practically see the understanding click in his eyes.

“I know you Elves don’t care if it’s cold or not but I’m not about to go taking baths in cold water,” Narvi said as she stopped the water flow. “The different birds go off at corresponding temperatures. I’ll explain it more to you if you want, but after we get you warmed up.” 

Celebrimbor didn’t seem to hear her and just continued to study the contraption Narvi had built into the wall of the room. His eyes kept travelling the lengths of the pipes and then going back to the birds before moving off again. She’d seen him reverse engineering enough things in his mind in the past to know that was what he was doing now. Most likely he’d already puzzled out a good deal of how it worked and wouldn’t need anything explained at all. Narvi couldn’t help but be very pleased with herself. When she had been first been designing the boiler she had been hoping (as she often did) to stump and delight Celebrimbor with her Dwarvish ingenuity. The Elf didn’t seem to be stumped, but delight seemed more of a possibility. At the very least the contraption had piqued his interest. Anything that brought even a flicker of his old self back was more than welcomed at this point. 

As Celebrimbor continued to puzzle out the boiler, Narvi grabbed a nearby comb and started working it through his frustratingly beautiful hair. Earlier she had gotten rid of the biggest snarls with her fingers, but the comb found plenty that had been missed.

The room was almost unsettlingly quiet. Narvi hadn’t counted on that. Usually, Khel was the one filling the silence, but he didn’t seem to be enough of himself yet to do that. Not even with humming. But Narvi wasn’t sure how to break that silence. Small talk and the like had never come naturally to her. Unnecessary talking often annoyed her. So, rather than try to fill the quiet with meaningless babble, Narvi focused on untangling Celebrimbor’s hair. Thankfully, his reborn Elvish hair seemed as silky and mostly straight as it ever had been and put up only token resistance to her comb. Narvi’s eyes kept getting drawn to the long scars that crisscrossed his back. They were in various thicknesses and so many it was sometimes hard to tell how many actually intersected across his bony back. The scars she could do little about but his thinness she could at least fix.

“Are you hungry, Khel?” she asked as she continued to comb his hair.

He shook his head. “Keep still,” she chided lightly. “Your bloody hair isn’t going to fix itself.” There was a long moment of silence. “I’m going to make something to eat anyway, after this. You might not be hungry, but I am.” And hopefully, once he smelled some food he’d realize that he needed to eat after all. Narvi didn’t want to have to force him to eat, but he really did have to.

The silence between them returned. Navi allowed her mind to wander slightly. She would have to go to the city and get some things for him. Clothes and other sorts of necessities. He had never been one of the Elves that minded meat he _had_ definitely preferred vegetables and fruits, and she didn’t exactly have a thriving garden. Or one at all. Although the first few meals wouldn’t pose any problems, she would have to replenish her food stores for them.

She finished the last section of his hair and couldn’t help but smile as she ran her fingers through it a few more times. She had greatly missed having him around, and now he was at least looking a little like his old self again with his skin a more healthy color. Although to be fair, he’d never cared to take care of his hair much the first time around either. She allowed herself the indulgence of straightening how his hair was draped over the side of the tub one last time before getting up from the stool she had been sitting on. 

“There. Now let me go see about making us something to eat. You finish your bath,” she said picking up the soap from the tray and putting it in his hand.

Before Narvi could move away, she heard the soap hit the floor, and her hand was grasped by one of Khel’s in a swift, (almost) desperate movement. In his twisting motion, half of his just-tidied hair slid sideways into the bathtub and Narvi found herself quickly fishing it out of the water with her free hand before the locks became sodden, and she had to deal with even more elf drying. “Narvi…?” She couldn’t help but be surprised and held her breath. Narvi hated to admit how much she had missed the sound of his voice and the way he said her name. It wasn’t in the least something a Dwarf should care about.

The moment stretched on before she managed to clear her throat of the river pebble that had become lodged there. “What?”

He seemed to struggle for a moment before tearing his eyes away from the boiler to look up at her instead. “… Stay.”

Narvi was positive her breath had fully fled her body at that point. He wanted her to stay? Why? But then she kicked herself mentally at the stupid question. Mahal had said he’d been banished to the void. He’d been trapped in nothingness for literal ages of the world. With nothing and nobody around it was no real surprise he wouldn’t want to be alone now. He was staring at her with an uncomfortable amount of intensity and Narvi tried to smile back at him. “Alright. But I’m hungry so don’t just sit there lounging all day, you lazy thing.”

Slowly his grip on her hand loosened, and he turned his eyes away again. Narvi picked up the soap from where he had dropped it and handed it back. He stared at it in his hand for several minutes as if he’d never seen soap before, but then he brought it up to his shoulder. Narvi figured that he was back on track and so she decided to put her attention into getting him something to wear for the time being. She searched around the room and found that she had left behind one of her travelling blankets in the bottom of the hamper she’d used to pull him into the bathroom. There was no way the cloth would be big enough to be decent, but it was definitely better than nothing. Using the scissors that she kept for trimming her beard and her own strong fingers, she ripped a hole for his head to go through and then found a cord that had been left behind in a corner that she could use as a sort of belt for him. Nobody could ever claim it to be pretty, but it would do for the short term. They would have to make do with more than just makeshift clothes until she got to town. “I’ll have to make you a bed,” she realized suddenly. “All I’ve done ‘round here is the basics. I hadn’t started on anything your sized.”

Celebrimbor didn’t respond and just continued to slowly move the soap over his skin. She frowned a little. Normally he’d have some quip for that. 

It took until the bathwater had become nearly ice cold for Celebrimbor to finish bathing since he seemed to keep forgetting what he was doing and stopping until Narvi reminded him. But Celebrimbo didn’t appear to mind or even notice the coldness of the water. Nor did he say anything about the less than fashionable outfit she’d quickly made for him. He just slipped it on over his body and tied the cord loosely around his waist. “I’ll get something better for you in town,” she told him as she eyed how it barely reached his knees. It had been a big blanket, but it still wasn’t big enough.

She gestured for him to follow her and he did silently. When they arrived in the kitchen, Celebrimbor had to use her dwarf-sized chair. He didn’t protest and just studied the room he was in silently.

Not that there was really a whole lot to study. Narvi’d put even less effort into the kitchen than she had the bathroom and really it only had a fireplace for cooking over a single chair and a table. Narvi had grander plans for it, because she always did, but she hadn’t needed more than a fire while she was building. The table itself was actually an old worktable from her workshop that she’d replaced with a nicer one ages ago, and so it was covered in scratches and dings and scorch marks from her work. Celebrimbor traced the marks with his fingertips even as Narvi started on something for them to eat. Soup seemed a good option, and so she grabbed some stock cubes and threw a handful into a pot of water.

Celebrimbor still didn’t seem to be entirely there with her. His attention seemed to have drifted off again, which couldn’t be a good sign. Narvi recalled how the whistle from the birds on the pipes had drawn his attention and although she wasn’t one to talk for the sake of talking he seemed to need some noise to focus on. Even as she started hacking some sorry dried meat into small pieces with a knife, she began to tell Celebrimbor about her latest projects.

At first, Celebrimbor didn’t seem to pay any attention to what she was saying, but as she continued to go into more and more detail about how she’d come up with the design for the entryway floor, his eyes seemed to become more present and focused. When Narvi finished the soup, she filled a small bowl and set it in front of him. He didn’t reach for it and instead continued to study the markings on the table with a strange look on his face. His eyes were some odd cross between wistful and pained. A sudden thought occurred to her, with some amount of dread, that after everything he may not even want to make things anymore. That possibility had honestly never occurred to her, but now that it had, the possibility was stomach churning. Considering that his skill at the forge had led to all of the betrayal and torture; perhaps it would be too painful to craft again? She hoped not. He had been so skilled and so happy while working, if that was taken away too… It would be too cruel.

To distract herself, Narvi cleared her throat and gestured towards his untouched bowl. “Come on then. Why don’t you at least try it? Tell me if I screwed it up or not. You know I’ve never been the best cook,” she said, which was entirely true. She’d never put much attention to cooking. So long as the food was edible, then she deemed the attempt a success. Narvi only needed something to eat between short breaks of her work. She’d let others worry about things like meals.

He seemed surprised that she’d ask and turned his attention to his bowl. He just stared at the liquid for a moment before shakily reaching for his spoon. Celebrimbor moved slowly but managed to lift a small bit of broth up to his mouth. He tasted the soup and, almost immediately, a strange look crossed his face before he put the spoon back down. “What?” Narvi asked. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad!” She’d eaten it just fine. He just shook his head and said nothing. “Khel! It’s soup! Even I couldn’t mess up soup!” She’d eaten it just fine!

Narvi took another spoonful of it into her mouth defiantly and frowned. Alright, so it was a bit… overly salted. But it was still edible! And it was easier to eat vegetables when they were all mushy like that! She was considerate! Although how some bits of vegetable and meat had gotten those flat hard sides and edges Narvi wasn’t sure. She scowled at Celebrimbor, who was tactfully looking away. “I’d like to see you do better,” she muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

Khel was sleeping more than he used to. He barely seemed to have any energy at all, which was such a drastic switch from what Narvi was used to she couldn’t help but be disturbed by it. She was far too used to him flitting around to take comfort in how he would retreat to her bed after just a short stint walking around. She had to poke and prod him to eat regularly, something that others were usually doing to her. It was another strange departure from the way things were supposed to go and it left her unsettled.

The only good thing about Khel sleeping so much and seemingly content to be left in bed for hours on end, meant that Narvi had ample time to go back to town and get what she needed for the Elf. She got a few curious glances as she bought things that were clearly not intended for herself but she ignored said looks without a single concern.

She wasn’t sure what entirely Celebrimbor would need really but she made sure to get him a least a few changes in clothes. She felt bad that Khel had to walk around in a rough blanket thown around him and sewn by her less than experienced hands. He hadn’t complained but that didn’t mean she felt any better about it. He hadn’t said hardly anything at all so he certainly wasn’t going to complain, not that he had ever been one for complaints in the first place.

“Narvi.”

She looked up from where she had been packing away some clothes in her bag to see Glorfindel standing there. “Glorfindel,” she greeted before going back to what she was doing. 

“You’re acting a bit odd,” Glorfindel said. “Has something happened?”

She frowned. “How am I acting odd?”

He shrugged a little and gestured to her bag. “It’s just, the things you’ve been buying today do not seem like something you’d normally buy. And the clothes are much too large besides.”

Narvi fought the urge to roll her eyes but just barely. So she bought some clothes too large for her, why was that apparently signal that she needed some sort of intervention? She glanced around before grabbing Glorfindel by the robes and yanking him down closer. “Khel is back,” she murmured so that only he could hear. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth as if to say something but she hissed to keep him quiet. “He’s not himself. He needs time, so keep it quiet,” she ordered. She had no idea how too many people coming to see the Elf would result. She’d rather avoid it altogether until she couldn’t anymore.

She waited until Glorfindel nodded before letting his robe go. “How?” he asked, keeping is voice soft.

“Mahal,” Narvi said. That really was enough to probably answer most of his questions but Narvi saw the surprised look on Glorfindel’s face and sighed. “He gathered what he could of Khel from the Void and sent him back. But he is still trying to recover…”

Glorfindel said nothing for a moment but a strange look passed over his face. Narvi tried not to think about his expression too much because it had a very unpleasant echo of pity in it. Narvi didn’t like the thought of Glorfindel pitying her or Celebrimbor. It didn’t help matters to pity people. Khel would get better and it wouldn’t be because other people were sad for him. It would be because he was stronger than what happened to him and time allowed him to find his footing again. 

“It is good that Aulë was able to do this,” Glorfindel said after several minutes. “And I am glad that you are taking care of Celebrimbor. Please, keep me informed. I would like to see him again.” Narvi nodded a little and lifted her bag to her back. “If you need any help… just speak with me. I will be more than happy to.”

Narvi paused some before nodding again. “I will. I know you and Khel got along well.” Glorfindel nodded some and stepped back. Narvi shifted her pack again before starting to make her way out of town so that she could go home. She didn’t particularly like how long she had been gone. Leaving Khel alone for a long time didn’t sit well with her despite the fact that Khel had been asleep when she left. With him acting so strange she didn’t want him to be left to his own devices.

It was a fairly long trek on foot but Narvi had gotten used to making it with all the back and forth she had done in the early days. The house was just as quiet when she came back as it had been when she left. Combined with how empty it still was, it gave a rather eerie feeling that she steadfastly ignored.

When she opened the door to her bedroom she saw that Khel had woken up and was sitting on the edge of the bed. She was about to ask what he was doing when she realized what he was staring at in his hand. It was the hair clasp she had made for him. He ran his thumb over the polished gold and jeweled details looking very thoughtful. “I made it for you,” Narvi found herself saying before she could stop herself.

Celebrimbor looked up, somewhat surprised. Narvi swallowed -suddenly feeling unnecessarily awkward- and stepped into the room. Celebrimbor didn’t say anything at all as Narvi stopped in front of him and gently took the clasp from his hands. “You’re always getting your hair into a mess,” she said softly. “Figured you could use one.”

After a moment, Celebrimbor smiled slightly. “Still complaining about my hair, _mellon_?” he asked softly.

“Well, you’re still ignoring it so, yes,” she said before getting onto the bed and moving behind him. “You’re hopeless, really.” He didn’t respond to that as Narvi gathered some of his hair and pulled it back away from his face. She had to swallow again to clear her throat as she threaded his long fiery hair through the clasp and then fastened it in place on the back of his head. She adjusted the position of the clasp and tried to not dwell too much on how the carefully wrought gold and bright sparks of emerald and sapphire looked in his hair. She was suddenly unsure if she should have made it or not. It looked gorgeous in his hair, of course, it had been designed to, but she was no longer convinced it was her place to make it for him.

He reached up and brushed his fingers over the slightly cool curves of gold. They were made to mimic Elven curves, but she had thickened the lines some because it just hadn’t felt quite substantial enough when it was thin. “Thank you, Narvi. It is beautiful, like everything you make,” he murmured.

Damn. Why’d he have to go and say that?

Narvi was beyond glad that she had a darker complexion, which hid her blushes almost entirely. She still didn’t exactly want to move to where his clever eyes could see her though. She had to almost force herself to get off the bed. “Yes, well, you never bother making things for yourself. Someone had to,” she said simply as she went to where she had dropped her pack by the doorway. “I got you some things from town as well.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I did,” she answered instantly. “You can’t just go wandering around in a blanket. You need some actual clothes and I’m a terrible seamstress.”

He smiled a little at that. “I can’t imagine you sewing, no,” he agreed. “But still, you needn’t have troubled yourself at all.”

“Oh, stop being so damned agreeable,” she muttered as she pulled out the clothes she had gotten for him. He should really complain more. If anyone had earned the right to complain it was him. “Just take the stupid things so you won’t be gallivanting around near naked anymore.”

“I hardly gallivant.”

She snorted. “You gallivant enough.” She pulled the top robe off the small pile she had gotten for him and nearly threw it at him. It was a rich green color that had reminded her of the holly trees he used to have all over his city. She’d picked it on a surge of nostalgic whim but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. “Get dressed already. I doubt you’ve bothered to eat either so once you’re dressed I’ll make you something.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” he said as he unfolded the green robes she had all but thrown at him.

“You say that but you need to eat regularly,” she said folding her arms over her chest. He was still too thin and she truly wanted to see him healthy and strong again. The only way he would be able to do that was if he ate regularly enough to get his body weight back up.

As he got dressed, Narvi left the room to go busy herself in the kitchen. She’d bought some supplies for the kitchen as well while she was in town. Narvi was in the midst of making them a simple meal over the fire when she noticed a flash of green out of the corner of her eye. She paused to look over and felt a knot build in her throat. Green really did look wonderful on him. The deep green of the robes contrasted with his pale skin and red hair beautifully. The long lines of the robe made him appear taller too and it was loose enough to disguise his unnatural thinness. “Thank you for the clothes, Narvi.”

She swallowed a bit and nodded. “You needed them,” she said simply before going back to the skillet she was working over. “Now sit down. You need to eat too.”

“Are you going to Mother me for very long, _mellon_?” he asked although he obediently sat down at the table.

Narvi gave an inelegant noise to show her opinion of that question. “I’m hardly mother material. Although you could probably use one,” she said dryly. “You’re just going to have to suffer with it until you’re healthy again. And don’t even try and say you are healthy because we both know you’re too thin.”

He was quiet for a moment but then nodded. She felt mildly bad about how she’d phrased that but she knew that she was right. He knew her well enough to hopefully not be too offended by her bluntness. She didn’t want him to be upset with her. He never had been before and she couldn’t imagine him being so now but the very thought that he might be was unsettling. She put a plate down in front of him in silence. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You know I don’t want to upset you, right?”

He nodded. “I know. I’m not upset with you, Narvi. And you aren’t wrong…”

She was quiet for moment as she sat down on her chair that she’d dragged in from another room. “I’m glad you’re back, Khel… I really am,” she said. “I want you to stay for a while.”

“I have no desire to go anywhere else,” he assured her.

Narvi smiled a bit and reached over to grab his hand. “I’m glad to hear it.”


	5. Chapter 5

Three days. That was all it took. Three days and she had already messed everything up. Oh, she hadn't done it intentionally but that hardly mattered. One didn't usually hurt the ones they cared for _intentionally_.

Celebrimbor's presence had eased the creative block she'd been having. He hadn't even had to do anything. Just him being there had apparently been enough. She'd woken up with the familiar itching in her fingers to _craft_. To make beautiful and functional things of all sorts. And, after so long with a block on this unrelenting creative drive that had been at her very core, she'd barely been able to give Khel something to eat before saying some vague excuse and disappearing to do something productive. That was, after all, all that she had needed before.

She'd only meant to work for an hour or two and then stop to check on her dear Elf. But, once her work started again, she was utterly consumed by it. She wasn't sure how long she had toiled away and refined and perfected already clever ideas. It wasn't until her stomach brought her crashing back to reality some time later that Narvi had realized just how long she'd been holed up. She cursed and quickly dropped what she'd been pondering over to nearly run out of the workshop. It was hard to tell how much time had passed since she was in the underground section of their home and therefore couldn't see the position of the sun. But she could tell far more time had passed than she had wanted. She cursed herself again as she called out for Khel. He didn't respond in the least and her worry increased. She had allowed herself to fall into old -probably bad- habits, which wouldn't have been a problem if Celebrimbor hadn't been hurt so badly. He would have normally joined her in the workshop and they'd still be in there now, puzzling over how to out craft one another. She'd failed to really consider that he was so different now. That he was still recovering and probably could barely lift any tools much less swing them about.

"Celebrimbor!" she called again as she started looking for him in the house. 

He didn't respond and her worry increased. She began searching for him. Her desire for food had evaporated once she'd realized how long she'd been occupied. How long she had been ignoring her duties to her friend? Here she was promising to look after him and help him get better and she'd been away at least most of the day indulging herself. She supposed she should be happy for once that she hadn't finished her home because it made it much easier to search for him with no furniture about. 

When she finally had found him, she cursed herself and her unthinking ways violently in her mind. Her poor broken Elf was tucked under the stairs with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was the very picture of desolate with his hair a tangled mess as if he'd been pulling at it and his eyes reddened. Tracks of tears streaked his fair face and he was staring down at his poor crooked fingers where his hands were trembling in front of himself. Her heart shattered as he continued to just stare at his own hands. 

Narvi fell to the ground beside him and wrapped her arms around his slender body. It wasn't just his hands that were shaking. "Oh, Khel, I'm sorry. I didn't think. I didn't mean to upset you," she said as he buried his face into her chest. She couldn't hear him but she could feel his body shake under the force of his sobs. She held him tighter and brushed her fingers through his tangled hair. His clasp was crooked and failing in its job somewhat but she didn't bother to fix it. Instead, she murmured to him in Khuzdul, knowing that he knew a lot of the basic words and phrases -far more than most Elves knew. She wasn't even sure if he was listening to her but she couldn't just do nothing while her heart was breaking in front of her. She rocked slightly in an effort to help soothe him but it didn't seem to be working.

It took a few moments before she realized he was saying something. It was a strange frenetic combination of different Elvish languages, some of which she didn't know even a lick of and those that she did know but that she was rusty with. She hadn't had any cause to practice her Elvish in centuries after all. But she was able to get the gist of the words he was saying and she felt familiar anger peak. He was saying such terrible things about himself. Words that she had bloodied others for saying about him. Multiple times. She wouldn't tolerate him saying it either. "You are not foolish," she said against his mad hair. It took a supreme effort to keep her voice soft and comforting rather than harsh. "You are beautiful and intelligent and skilled beyond all measure. It is no crime to enjoy your craft. It is no fault of yours what happened."

She remembered well the strange caution he'd had about his visitor. The unusual reservation despite the then Annatar's pure guise. And though he had eventually put aside his misgivings, it wasn't through lack of intelligence that he had. It was for trust. A trust that had been cruelly betrayed. Narvi buried her face against the top of his head. "It wasn't your fault, Khel. It wasn't." He shuddered and grabbed at her tunic with his weakened hands. 

Narvi took one hand from where it was tangled in his hair to wrap around one of his slender hands. "I'm so sorry I upset you, Khel. Truly. I can't apologize enough."

He shook his head in denial and she tightened her grip on him. "I did upset you. Don't bother trying to deny it, Khel. You've always been easy to read. If anyone is a fool here it is me, for not realizing," she said. She should have known. She really should have. After all he'd been through, she hadn't even given him a week to readjust before forcing him to face something so terrible. She wasn't sure if it was his memories or the realization about the condition of his hands that had caused such a reaction from him but it hardly mattered. It had been her that triggered it and she _despised_ herself for it. She would murder someone for hurting him as badly as she had hurt him just today. But she couldn't exactly punish herself right now. She had to take care of him. 

She let them stay there until his sobs eased a little. Somehow not hearing them made them worse and she was glad when she stopped feeling them shaking his slender form. Rarely did Narvi think much about her Dwarvish stature, it was a part of her, and she wasn't ashamed about it in the least. She was very proudly a Dwarf. But it did make situations like this a bit more difficult. Because she wanted to pick him up and carry him somewhere more comfortable but she simply couldn't do that. Not for lack of strength but the pure awkwardness of his long limbs. She had to let him get the most of his sorrow out here under the stairs before trying to coax him to move. 

As she slowly tried to do that, she mentally raged at the monster who had done this to her friend. What had Khel ever done to get mistreated so badly? Nothing. He'd only ever wanted to make things and shower his friends with gifts and climb trees like a lunatic. There wasn't a malicious speck in his body much less an entire bone of it. Why did evil have to constantly destroy what was beautiful in the world?

It seemed to take ages to get Khel back to bed. He was still struggling to not break down further and he leaned heavily against Narvi despite the awkward height difference. At least strength wasn't something lacking to make it worse. She could hold up his frail, bird-like weight without trouble. The stairs themselves were the worst since it made their heights even more profoundly uneven.

It took some time to manage, but eventually Narvi did get Celebrimbor back to her bed. He collapsed onto it and curled up on his side with his knees up and his face buried in her pillow. He was still crying but his sobs had eased much since she first found him. She crawled up behind him and carefully untangled the clasp from his hair. It was silent -save Khel's little noises of despair that managed to escape him and the muffling of the pillow. Narvi carefully put the hair ornament to the side and picked up the comb that was there. She started to slowly deal with his hair again, hoping it would soothe him a little bit.

She wasn't sure if it worked but he did slowly calm down entirely. Narvi kept combing his hair even after his breathing deepened indicating he'd fallen asleep. "I'm sorry, Khel," she said again as she watched the brilliant red strands of his hair run through the tines of the comb. "I'll be more careful next time." 

She knew that if it was the state of his hands that he was worried over, they could be fixed, but she wasn't about to bring that up with him. It would take rebreaking and resetting his fingers (probably some of them would need a few breaks) and she wasn't willing to make him endure that in such a vulnerable state when she wasn't even sure that was what had distressed him so. It would be a painful and unpleasant process that might bring up even worse memories. His fingers had been broken as a punishment and torture after all. She wouldn't want to remind him of that while trying to help him. No, she would wait until he was expressing interest in crafting things himself again. So far, though he'd shown some interest in the ingenuity that she displayed, he hadn't brought up such things at all. Not even to ask how she had made something, which was still highly unusual.

Combing his hair was strangely soothing for her and she couldn't quite help the almost automatic motion of running the comb through his hair even after she'd untangled it. Narvi wasn't entirely sure how long she sat there just combing his hair and thinking but when she finally realized that she'd long since gotten it untangled, she forced herself to stop. She put the comb to the side and gathered all of Celebrimbor's luxurious hair together. She braided it all into one thick but loose rope and then tucked him under the covers. "I really need to make you your own bed," she murmured as she carefully got off of the bed to go wash up.

It didn't take her long and when she came back, slightly damp but clean, she crawled into bed behind him and wrapped her arm around his still bony waist. She would have to be more careful next time. She didn't want to hurt him like this again. He'd suffered more than enough without her bumbling making it worse. She lay there for quite a while just berating herself for her stupidity while hoping, somehow, that her presence at his side brought him some sort of comfort. She instinctively knew that it was late already but she couldn't manage to fall asleep easily despite being tired. She had upset her Khel with thoughtlessness and driven him to a small breakdown. How was she going to make that up to him?

Despite the riot of her thoughts, she did eventually drift off to sleep, however unpeaceful. She didn't try too hard to go back to sleep when she woke up early the next morning and decided to just get started on her day. 

Khel however, didn't seem to be of a similar opinion. He stayed in bed and no amount of prodding or poking or slight pulling from Narvi seemed to be enough to get him moving. She knew that this lethargy was, again, her fault and tried her utter best to not get too frustrated with him. He'd had an unpleasant day yesterday and still probably needed time to adjust, which she was determined to give to him if she could.

Narvi wanted to stay close by in case Khel did get up at some point, so she started working on the bathing room. It was mostly design work at this stage but she wanted it perfect. It took her the majority of the day to get something that she liked. She would have to adjust some things that she'd already done to make the design work but she didn't care. She'd rather it be a perfect design than make changes just to avoid some building. She pointedly ignored the fact that the room had slowly taken on a more and more Elvish sensibility as she designed it despite being underground. It was, quite simply, purely coincidental. When she got around to making Khel's side of the house things would be downright embarrassingly Elvish, it would only make sense that a little Elf sensibility had seeped into her half of the house. Yes, that sounded entirely reasonable to her head.

She started marking out her ideas and designs but she didn't get any further than that on the first day. She wasn't in a hurry and she didn't want to get consumed by her work again. Though she had tried several times over the day to get Khel up or at least to have him eat something he hadn't responded much. It was worrisome but she gave him the time and space he apparently needed. 

She wondered if she should contact an actual healer for Khel. Though he had no open wounds or anything of that nature he did have healing that needed to be done. She'd really rather handle it all herself but it was far from her expertise. Neither her or Khel had been all that worried about things such as healing. They'd always focused on their crafts and endless projects. Narvi should probably at least have someone near-ish that would know that they might need help. Even if not for Khel the chances of Narvi or Celebrimbor hurting themselves at the forge never really went away despite centuries of practice to keep them safer. Things could still go wrong at a forge and molten metal and fire were unforgiving mistresses. Narvi frowned a little as she thought about the idea a little more. It probably would be smart to have some sort of healer around for whatever might happen but Narvi had never been the most social of Dwarves. Part of the reason she'd liked this little corner of the world was it's relative seclusion. 

With a little huff of annoyance at herself, Narvi put the idea out of her head for the moment. She could always deal with it later. Right now, she wanted to try and get Khel to eat again. Even a little soup and bread would be better than nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I started this off with the intention of making this the fluffiest chapter that ever fluffed! I lost it a bit there but I tried to keep it on track! I really did! Also, Narvi is TOTALLY NOT jelly over Galadriel. NOPE. That could never be the reason.

Narvi spent the next several days trying her utmost to not get overly consumed with her work. Khel was... well, not really better but at least not seemingly exhausted. Not any more than he had been before anyway. Narvi did her best to work on things that were quieter so that hopefully the sound of her work wouldn't disturb her friend. To that end, the first thing that she actually completed was something for Celebrimbor. She had noticed, that Khel did like the conservatory at the top of the tower but that the number of stairs he had to climb to get there often left him tired and there was nowhere to rest up there. So, she had built for him a seat. That way he could spend as much time as he wanted where he could enjoy the view and also be further away from the noise he couldn't quite seem to be able to handle yet.

It had been a unique challenge for Narvi to design as she had wanted it in such a way that he could lay down and truly rest if he needed to. The chair slowly morphed until it was further and further leaning backwards. It went from normal height for an Elf to only about eight inches off the ground. The short legs were unusually thin but wrought into dramatic angles and elegant curves that had crossed and twisted into a feat of engineered balance. She'd enjoyed making something that looked fragile but could actually hold quite a bit of weight. The main seat of the lounge was unusually large and curved slightly. The back was a gentle curve and intricately carved. She'd had to get cushions made for it as there was no way she'd manage the sewing bit, but there were plenty of Elf-Maids in the city that she'd enlisted the help of. Of course, she hadn't realized when she'd gone to them that she'd suddenly feel... awkward. 

She was hopeless with thread and needle and normally she couldn't care less, but now Narvi felt... strangely inadequate being unable to finish the chair for Khel without help. Even something as foolish as not being able to upholster the thing. She didn't want to go up to them and ask. And then she remembered Galadriel. She could sew, couldn't she? Narvi seemed to remember something about her doing so. And Khel had adored his cousin. Glorfindel had to find Galadriel for her, but he managed it swiftly enough and passed on her request.

The Once Lady of the Golden Wood had been happy to help. In a matter of just a few days, the chair was cushioned with several layers of soft wool and then covered with a very fine and buttery soft fabric that Narvi had no hope of naming -if she'd ever even heard of it. It was a lovely blue-silvery color that seemed to shimmer slightly in the light. Galadriel had even supplied Narvi with a few more blankets and pillows and such that she knew she'd eventually need for Khel. Narvi wanted to be annoyed but just couldn't bring herself to be. She _wanted_ to dislike Galadriel. She had one of Khel's rings, and Khel had just _gushed_ about Galadriel back when they were on Arda Marred. But, damn it all, if Galadriel wasn't annoyingly praise-worthy. Of course, the craftswoman should have known that the Elf would be. She'd been named fairest by everyone: Elves, to men, to Wizards, to even Dwarves. Blast it all, she was hard to hate! Plus, Narvi was half sure that Galadriel had been laughing at her somehow. Or maybe that had just been the general dislike of the bearer of a Ring of Power making her imagine things. Narvi did hate all of those damned things to various extents. Perhaps a little irrationally in some cases. Narvi shoved that to the back of her mind and tried to not think about Galadriel at all. It was safer that way.

So, after perhaps only a week, Narvi had the first Elvish sized furniture placed in their home. The lounge was difficult to get up the stairs, but Glorfindel came to help -yet again. Narvi was half sure he was hoping to see Celebrimbor, but the redhead stayed cloistered away in Narvi's room the whole time. Of course, that hardly seemed to dampen Glorfindel's spirts any and he just cheerful said if they needed anything else to be sure to ask and he'd be glad to do what he could. The craftswoman just rolled her eyes though she wasn't too surprised. There was something about these Noldor men... just so frustratingly cheerful. At least Glorfindel and Khel were. By all accounts, they had less reason than most to be cheerful and yet there they were, being happy... Senseless things. Or maybe Narvi just had a strange talent for finding merry Elves. What a spectacularly useless gift that was...

Still, Narvi was glad there was somewhere for Khel to relax. Somewhere that would remain quiet and calm while Narvi worked on things in her forge and built more of their home. 

When Celebrimbor first set his eyes on the lounge, he had just stood there and stared for several moments. Narvi was a little nervous -for some ridiculous reason- but Khel's passive face warmed slightly. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and guided him over to it. "I figured having a place up here for you to sit and relax would be a good idea," Narvi said as Khel put a hand down to run his hand over the soft fabric.

"You made this for me?"

"Well, yeah," Narvi replied and did her best to not seem in the least affected. "You can't fit on the furniture I already have."

Celebrimbor tilted his head a little before nodding a little. "I suppose you're right. Thank you, Narvi. It will be nice to be able to sit and enjoy seeing the sky again."

He slowly sat down on the low couch and turned his face upwards. The sun was out and bright so the room was of a pleasant temperature and he seemed to greatly enjoy feeling the sun on his skin. Narvi couldn't help but smile. She grabbed a nearby blanket that Galadriel had woven for her friend and wrapped it around his thin shoulders. "Here. It is still cold out," she told him. "You come back downstairs if you start getting too cold, though. You hear me?"

A small smile creased his mouth, and he grabbed at the edges of the dark midnight blue blanket. "I will, Narvi. I have no desire to be cold."

Narvi studied him for a moment before giving a short nod. "Good. I'll bring you lunch in a bit if you haven't come down by then," she promised him. Khel nodded his agreement at that, and Narvi reluctantly left him to relaxing in what had already turned into a sort of sanctuary for him. Narvi frowned at that thought even as she made her way down the stairs. It was currently a rather sparse sanctuary, but she could fix that. The main problem was when it got to be closer to evening or early in the morning to would still be terribly chilly. Heat from the stove and Forge would most likely be plenty. She could probably harness it if she just reworked a few things. Since Narvi kept her forge at least smoldering at pretty much all times there should never be a problem of not enough warmth no matter what time Khel wanted to go to the observatory. But heating it was a technical issue... anything further than that was a little beyond her. What did Elves want in their homes? She'd been in Khel's home back before, but that had been a long time and a very different time. Both she and Khel had been different. Narvi hadn't noticed much about the decor other than it wasn't to her very Dwarvish standards. Standards that had relaxed over the centuries in Mahal's halls. Now, of course, when she wanted to make an Elvish retreat she couldn't think of anything that might help.

It took a little time for her to start on her work again. Since she didn't quite know what to do with the Conservatory, she turned her attention to the bathing chamber by her room. She had already marked out all the things she was going to change. Now that Celebrimbor wasn't nearby she felt more comfortable starting on the work. 

The hardest part would no doubt be in carving out the large basin and slight slope that was going to be the bath. The water pipes had to be adjusted a little, and there had to be a drain to get the dirty water out. First, she would need to carve out the small hole in the wall just above the basin where all of the soaps and oils that were used in washing could be kept. Narvi made sure it was just a little bit above where the water line was going to be so that there wouldn't have any risk of water getting on the shelf. She made sure that it was big enough for everything that she could possibly need.

Once the pentagon shaped cubby was carved out, she began on the actual basin that would be the tub. That would take a bit more time, and she already had caused the whole room to be coated in a fine layer of dust. She made sure to go slowly to ensure that the different pipes and sluices and drains all were going to work properly. The last thing she needed was a backed up drain in her house. It was much easier, in the long run, to ensure it was made properly the first time.

By the time lunch rolled around, Narvi had made a good amount of headway with her project. She was happy to be able to get more work done and without bothering Khel. Especially since she'd been putting off doing this sort of thing for years now. Roughly sized and carved rooms had only ever been meant for temporary housing. Now she was actually inspired to turn the soulless house into a real home. Plus, working always made her feel better.

She brought a tray of food up to the Conservatory and couldn't help but smile when she spotted Celebrimbor. He hadn't really moved from where she'd left him, although he had laid down. The blanket was tucked around him, and his eyes were half closed in the way of Elvish Reverie. Her smile grew a little to see him so at peace, and she made her way over to the lounge. She'd made sure to make the couch large enough for his stupid height to lay nearly any which way on the cushion, so there was still plenty of room for her to sit beside him. She put the tray down on the floor carefully before turning to her friend.

His hair had been taken down from its clasp and was framing his face prettily. It only took a moment for Narvi to spot the missing clasp held in Celebrimbor's hand, kept near to his chest. Narvi couldn't help but smirk a little and reached out to brush the strands of fire from Khel's face.

He blinked a little and took a deep breath as he woke up. He hummed questioningly even as his eyes slowly focused. "Hey. You fell asleep," Narvi supplied for him. "Are you hungry?"

"Mm, not really," Khel admitted as he closed his eyes again and turned his face a little into the small cushion he'd been using as a pillow. It was covered in the same silvery fabric of the rest of the lounge. Narvi couldn't help but notice how remarkably the red of his hair stood out amongst the silver upholstery and dark blue blanket. Even his pale skin didn't stand out as amazingly as his hair.

"You and your hair," Narvi murmured, not without some fondness. "Didn't you like the clasp?"

Celebrimbor shook his head slightly and tightened his hold on the ornament. "It wasn't that... it was hard to lay back with it in. It dug into my skull."

Narvi tilted her head a little as she considered. "I see. I could try and fix it for you?"

"I like it how it is," Celebrimbor replied instantly. "I would never wish your work to change, _mellon nin_. It is more than acceptable how it is."

The Dwarf couldn't help but smile at that. "Flatterer. Well, even if you aren't hungry, I'd like you to try and eat something." Khel didn't look enthused by the idea in the least. "I know. I can't hardly make soup, but it's important to me. Just eat a little. I won't be cruel enough to make you finish my cooking."

"You're not that bad," the Elf denied.

Narvi snorted. "I've seen the look on your face often enough, thanks. Don't lie. Especially to save my feelings and you're bad at it," she said as she reached down for the tray. She put the tray on the cushion beside Celebrimbor. "Go on then."

Celebrimbor sighed and reached down to the tray to pick up an elegantly wrought silver spoon. He examined it for a moment and smiled some at the diamond and single curving line that was carved into the handle. A lovely mix of Dwarfish and Elvish. "I never knew you to work silverware before, _mellon_."

She shrugged a little. "I got bored," she said, only half telling the truth. She had been bored. But she'd also been frustrated when he had not shown up as soon as she thought he should have. 

"Bored? That is not like you either," he said as he dragged his spoon through the bowl of soup. It had larger chunks of meat and vegetable in it, but Celebrimbor still couldn't find much of an appetite to try it. He knew, in his mind, that he did need to eat, but he was having trouble making himself do so.

"Well, I'm not bored any longer. It was a temporary thing," Narvi assured him.

"I see. Well, I'm glad for that," he said. "I don't think I can imagine you 'bored' in any way."

Narvi smirked a little. "Yeah, I admit it was strange, but I muddled through and got some nice looking silver out of it. But enough delaying. Eat something, Khel."

Celebrimbor frowned and put his spoon down before taking the bread that was sitting nearby. It was a little over hard by this point, but the inside of the bread was still somewhat soft. He pulled that bit out of the bread and started to nibble at that. "Happy, Mother?"

"Don't sass me, Elf," Narvi replied although her voice was rather mild. "Someone has to look after your lazy self."

"And you do it very well," Celebrimbor said with a smile. "I thank you for it, even though I am plenty old enough to take care of myself."

The craftswoman rolled her eyes. "Old enough, maybe, but I'm not so sure that you can actually take care of yourself. I think that it'd be best if you left the 'looking after' part to me. At least until you stop being so ridiculous... so, you know, forever." Celebrimbor laughed a bit and ripped off another piece of bread. He knew well enough that she was only goading him and, to be honest, he had missed it. He had missed _her_. Nobody was like her. Not around him anyway. Mostly -during his life- people only ever treated him like a Noldor Lord. But not her, and it was refreshing. Afterward, he'd been treated not like a person at all, and he'd only missed her even more.

He lifted a hand and brushed his no longer straight fingers over her shoulder. He would wish to do else wise but couldn't bring himself to be so rude to his best friend. "I have missed you, Narvi. So very much, I did not think it possible," he confided softly.

"Daft thing," she murmured and reached up to take his hand in hers. "I missed you too, you know. Telchar and Bar... They were good to work with. I enjoyed it. But it wasn't the same."

"Telchar and Bar?" Celebrimbor echoed.

"Bar of Belegost and Telchar of Nogrod," Narvi clarified. "Telchar, I'm sure you've heard of. Perhaps not Bar. He was not as famous outside of the Dwarven realms."

Khel seemed to think for a moment before shaking his head and giving a heavy sigh. "I'm sure I have heard of them, _mellon_ , but I cannot recall from where. Some things... from before, they are quite hazy to my mind."

Narvi pursed her lips some. Damn. Damn. And damn thrice Sauron to the abyss for what he'd done to sweet Celebrimbor. She pushed her anger down with some difficulty. Anger wasn't what Khel needed right now. He needed something to take that haunted look from his blue eyes. Something to bring the fire back. It was a good thing that Dwarves were so talented with stoking fires. "It's alright. It's not that important. Just know, even among the great Dwarven craftsmen... I missed your incessant humming. Tuneless as it is." She was rewarded with a little laugh that managed to erase some of the sorrow that had taken up residence on his face when he realized he couldn't remember things he should know.

He leaned forward and rested his forehead upon hers. "Thank you, Narvi... you are an endless treasure to me. Everything now seems so dark, and yet you are so bright. You shine and bring cheer back to me when I had thought that impossible," he murmured.

Her hands came up to wrap around his thin torso tightly. "Don't talk nonsense. I'm nothing of the sort," she managed to say. She would never admit that her eyes were wet with tears that were clawing at her throat and begging to be spilled. How could he, the very spirit and heart of Mahal's Forges themselves, talk about her in such a way? If anyone deserved such pretty Elvish words, it was him. Not her.

"You are everything I claim you to be," he said. "Everything I said and yet more that I haven't the words to express..."

"Shut up," she muttered. Her voice was gruff with restrained emotions. "All your Elvish poetry is going to your head if you're talking about a Dwarf like that."

"I think not..." he whispered so softly she could barely hear it. She pretended she hadn't. She couldn't argue with him over something like that. Not with how deeply his words had hit in her heart. Honestly, who ever heard of a famous Elvish Lord like him saying such silly things to a Dwarf? Well, alright, there had been one other, but that had been long after their time. So very long after them... She pushed her thoughts somewhere else, needing to separate herself from how tender her emotions felt before she did something she regretted.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... all their conversations are always so freakin' painful. I mean really... get out tissues for this one. Ugh, and I thought I was going to go light on the angst this chapter then WHAM they started talking and it just spiraled...

Celebrimbor's seat up in the Conservatory quickly became the place where finding the Elf was nearly guaranteed. Usually, shortly after breakfast Khel would disappear up the stairs and not come back down until dinner time. Narvi wasn't entirely sure what he did up there all day, but he seemed happy enough to just sit there and watch the sky or nap between Narvi's mostly regular checking on him. With Narvi ensuring that Celebrimbor ate at least something three times a day and him getting as much rest as he needed, Celebrimbor was recovering his strength and a more normal body weight. Narvi couldn't have been happier when she realized that she couldn't see his ribs and spine through his back any longer.

With Khel recovering in a relatively safe place away from Narvi's work, their home under the cliff was quickly taking shape. Narvi had finished the bathing room first. The large tub in the ground dominated one side of the room, and she had taken the time to carve intricate designs around the slightly raised edges and into the bottom of the pool. The alcove above the tub had ended up being larger than she intended (mostly because of a flaw in the stone) and ended up being more of a fireplace with the actual shelves she had planned on the sides. The rest of the plumbing had been arranged in a corner somewhat out of the way of the line sight of the main door. The room was still a bit cold perhaps, but Narvi would be sure to add things to make it more comfortable once she got the rest of the house looking better.

Once the bathroom was fully set to the way that Narvi had designed it, she moved onto the kitchen. The fireplace had to be made a bit bigger, and she spent several days laboring over an oven design that would actually heat everything evenly and at a more controlled pace than open flames could do. She had plenty of experience designing forges, so an oven wasn't that much of a stretch. When she rerouted the chimneys of the kitchen, she made sure to run them so that it met up with the exhaust from the workshop to work as heating for the tower, which lost heat much faster with the open air around it. On a whim, Narvi included a small clay fireplace right in the middle of the Conservatory that could be lit for heat and light if Celebrimbor wanted. She wasn't sure if he used it much, but he'd seemed amused when he came up that morning and saw it had been added while he slept.

With the heating of the house finished being worked out through fireplaces and heating vents, Narvi set to making some more furniture. The kitchen got a new table and chairs that were actually made with eating in mind rather than the old jumble of furniture she'd thrown together to just serve a purpose. The chairs were an interesting little puzzle as she wanted them to both match and be comfortable for both her and Khel. She ended up compromising by building the table and chair seat closer to the ground than Elves normally would but still something she needed to use a carved rung detail to step on to fully get seated. It seemed to work fairly well. And it took pretty much no time at all for her to grow so used to the motion that it wasn't something she actively thought about. With the table and chairs sorted she worked on the rest of the kitchen, designing workspace and a second room that could be used as a pantry. A spiral staircase from the pantry led to a room beside the cave below them that would serve as a wine cellar although she knew more than just wine would be stored there. 

By the time spring rolled around Narvi had almost fully furnished and built the underground portion of their home. She had hardly touched the tower section, mostly because she had imagined that as being Celebrimbor's domain and something he'd rather take on himself. Of course, now, she wasn't as sure. He never came close to her forge and instead, once he was strong enough, spent his time outside or bringing various plants up to the Conservatory. Narvi had no idea what most of them were but she was glad he was doing something that he seemed to enjoy. 

There was much improvement overall, but there was something that Narvi had not done that she realized she probably should. Khel's bedroom. He still curled up with her in her too small for an Elf bed at night, and it was something they avoided talking about. Narvi had rationalized that without a room to build for him, there was little point in making him his own bed. But now that all of the main floor was constructed and mostly furnished, there wasn't really a reason to put off making Khel's room. Over the months, Narvi had added various things to the Conservatory along with the lounge and the small fireplace. Mostly planters and the like for Khel's growing accumulation of plants. But other than the Conservatory she'd resisted labeling the other rooms in the tower portion of the house.

Narvi stood at the top of the stairs and couldn't quite help but smile as she watched Khel doing something with one of the smaller sprouts of a plant. Tears almost managed to escape when she heard him humming again. It was soft and just as tuneless as ever, but it had been so long since she'd heard it she had begun to think she never would again. It took her several minutes to get herself under control and blink away the excess moisture that hearing her friend somewhat back to his old habits brought. He wasn't crafting. Hadn't even ventured into the workshop, but this was proof he was healing. She cleared her throat and stepped further into the room.

Celebrimbor paused and turned with the small pot, and it's little sprouts, still in his hands. "Narvi. It can't be midday already," he mused.

"It's not," she agreed. "But I'm done with my projects for now." She could probably find more to work on, but the vast majority of her half of the house was now almost comfortable. Finishing touches had yet to be done, but that was all rather inconsequential.

If Khel found it odd that she was willingly halting projects, even temporarily, he didn't say anything. "Is Glorfindel still bothering you?" he asked curiously.

Narvi snorted. "Always. But I can handle him," she replied. After coming to help with Khel's chair, Glorfindel had invited himself to visit once every couple of weeks. He always gave the excuse of bringing them food (somehow he always managed to time it when they did actually need food, and Narvi suspected being spied upon by Galadriel and her damned rebuilt mirror) and he would linger for most of the day. Celebrimbor still made certain to keep out of sight, but Glorfindel ignored his friend's absence with a certain blithe lack of concern that Narvi couldn't help but envy. Glorfindel was perhaps not the wisest or most patient of the Eldar, but he seemed to inherently understand that he couldn't push Celebrimbor in his current state. Narvi had a feeling Glorfindel had dealt with Elves that had been horribly treated before though she didn't dare ask about it. Narvi took another few steps across the room and sat down on the edge of the couch. "I wanted to talk to you, Khel."

"About?"

Celebrimbor turned his attention to the plant in his hand, gently touching the tiny emerald leaves with one finger. Narvi didn't really want to broach this topic but felt she had to. Khel simply couldn't be comfortable in a bed half the size it needed to be, and she wondered many times if that was the real reason he napped on the couch so often. "The tower I made for you, Khel, since I knew you Elves aren't fond of being underground. But I didn't know where to put the rooms or how you'd want them."

Khel was quiet as he studied the plant and then, after several minutes, he put the pot down on the table he'd taken it from. "You wish my opinion?"

"Of course. If I'm building something for you, of course, I'd want your opinion about it," Narvi told him. "I want you to like the place you're living."

"But you know me so well, _Mellon_ ," he said lightly. "I trust you to make whatever you wish and that it will be beyond lovely. Your work so far has been such."

Narvi frowned a little. "But you don't want any say at all?" It wasn't at all like him to avoid even the planning stages of something. She could understand avoiding her forge, especially with his still crooked fingers, but he seemed to be avoiding everything that could even slightly be related to crafting. It actually _hurt_ to see him so. The idea that this new world of peace would be fully devoid of his magnificent crafts -save the Three Elven Rings that had been brought back when the Elves returned- was painful indeed. "Surely, you have some opinion on _where_ the rooms are put, at least."

Celebrimbor sighed and leaned his weight on the table beside him. "Narvi... please. Do not..."

She was a bit taken aback by the sound of his voice. It was so _weary_ and laced with a pain she couldn't possibly understand. She bit her lip but then nodded. "Alright, Khel. You don't have to," she murmured. She didn't want to hurt him more by insisting. 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize!" she said a bit harshly. "Don't ever apologize. Not to me, not to anyone. You've done nothing that warrants an apology. Nothing, you understand?" Khel looked up at her and stared for a moment. Narvi was a little regretful of her tone but the thought of him saying 'sorry' for not being alright after torture just got her so angry. Finally, he just looked away with the slightest of nods.

Narvi sighed and ran a hand through her mass of small braids that she kept her hair pulled back in. She had hurt him, she knew. She hadn't wanted to, but she definitely had. Again. She had avoided actually calling for help with Khel, medical or otherwise, mostly because of how staunchly he had avoided even being seen when Glorfindel had visited. What good would a healer do if Celebrimbor refused to see them? But it was getting to the point where Narvi could do little else for him. Though she couldn't see his ribs as she could before he was still slightly thinner than she would like. He was gaining no more weight but thankfully not losing any either. He was quiet and reclusive, and it took much prodding on her part to get him to take care of himself. Narvi didn't doubt that if she weren't constantly making him eat and get up, he would spend all day in her bed. Even when they woke up in the mornings, he seemed as if he were going to spend all day still curled up in her blankets. His energetic-self seemed to have lost every shred of motivation, although Narvi could tell he was _trying_. She was fairly certain it was her worry of how little he did that had finally got him gathering plants and filling his Conservatory with them. Narvi was glad that he'd found something that got him acting even slightly like his old self, but she couldn't help but wonder if he'd taken it up to get her to stop worrying or if he truly found it enjoyable. He certainly wasn't obsessing over the plants and spending endless hours tending to them like he used to do his crafting.

The craftswoman was worried about him but didn't know what else to do to help. She could fix near anything. Save, apparently, an Elf's wounded soul. That she couldn't begin to mend. Narvi felt like such a failure. She should be able to do better than this. She really should.

Narvi looked up at Khel again. He hadn't really moved from where he was leaning against the table. Instantly, she got up and went to him. Wrapping an arm around his slender waist, she could feel he was trembling. "Come on, come sit down, Khel," she urged gently. He didn't resist as she guided him to the couch and sat him down. He was still trembling, and she noticed his breathing was a bit shorter than it should be. "It's alright. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just hate it when you think you've done something wrong."

Khel opened his blue eyes and looked at her. "I have done something wrong," he said barely above a whisper. "None of those terrible things would have ever happened if not for me... Nine men were twisted into something horrible because of what I did. And your people... I do not know how you cannot hate me for the horrible things the seven wrought against the Kingdoms of Dwarves."

"None of that was your doing," Narvi insisted even as Celebrimbor curled up around the pillow and buried his face in it. He was still shaking. "You were not the only Elf in those Forges. You made the only rings that were free of his taint, and you kept the others away from him as best you could! It would have been far worse without you."

The Elf seemed to shrink before her eyes and, before she could think of a better way to handle it, Narvi laid down beside him and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Don't blame yourself for things you had no part in, Khel. You did not weave the Nine's Fates, nor did you make the Dwarves keep using those blasted rings even after Sauron's treachery was known." Celebrimbor let out a harsh noise that cut at Narvi's heart. "Khel. Please... don't blame yourself for being tricked by that scum. Everyone else was as well. There is no fault to be had."

"But there is!" he said, his voice half muffled by the pillow but still easily understandable by how loud he was in his distress. "I knew something was amiss! I did. I shouldn't have ignored it!"

"Kelebrimbor!" Narvi said harshly, more to get his attention than anything. He took several harsh breaths, apparently trying to calm himself and not fully succeeding. She gave him a moment before continuing in a softer tone, "It was not your fault. I remember what happened too, you know. There was no reason to think such horrible things would happen. Trust is not a flaw, _ursuruh kurdu_."

Celebrimbor finally looked up. "You have never called me that before..."

Narvi cleared her throat and tried to not let it be too obvious that the nickname she'd been calling him in her mind had slipped out. "Yes, well, it fits you."

"Does it? What does it mean?"

"Don't go changing the subject to Khuzdul lessons," she said. She was not about to tell him what she had called him. It would be far too embarrassing to explain. "Why in Arda do you think you're the one responsible for things you had no part in?"

Celebrimbor looked away. "Because I did have a part in it," he murmured. "You don't understand, Narvi. I was a fool. He used _my forges_ to make those horrid things. He twisted my crafts against me, and I didn't even see it. Everyone always said how 'talented' I was and yet he could make those insidious things right under my nose!"

Narvi was actually taken aback by the venom in Khel's voice when he said that. She'd never, in all the time she knew him, heard him use such a tone. Not even on the rare chance he spoke about all the misdeeds of his family and the pain that befell them all because of it had he spoken like that. He had only sounded sad then. Until this moment, Narvi hadn't thought Khel possible of _hate_ and yet here he was with so much of it, and it was all directed inward. "Khel... do not blame yourself. Please. You are no fool and never have you been."

She caught his chin and forced him to face her again. His eyes, which had once been the color of the hottest flames were now shattered ice, and it caused her throat to knot painfully. "Listen to me, Khel. What he did to you... nobody should have ever felt that. And yet you endured it for so long. You fought him before anyone even knew the depths of his treachery. You are neither weak nor a fool."

He was silent for several moments as the ice in his eyes melted into tears. Still shattered but less cold. "It hurts so much, Narvi..." he said, voice strangled. "I feel it still. It feels I am still in that darkness with his claws still rending my flesh into strips of bloody waste."

Narvi felt a chill run down her spine at his words. She didn't know how to respond to that. What could she possibly say? Though she knew what he went through in that dungeon and somewhat what he went through even after, she didn't _know_. There was no way that she could. Unable to think of something suitable, she wrapped her arms tight around his chest. It took a moment of having her face buried in his thick red hair before any words managed to come to her. She didn't know how comforting they would be, but she said them anyway. "He's gone now, Khel. He can't hurt you anymore."

The Elf clung to her tightly, almost painfully, his fingers digging into her shoulder. "He is not gone," he whispered, almost so strangled she couldn't hear it. "He will never be. He will always manage to reach me."

She knew he was probably not speaking literally but still his words caused fear to fill her chest. The very idea that monster could still be lingering somewhere was bone chilling, but he had been destroyed along with his cursed ring. His tower had collapsed, and Mordor had been emptied. But, she supposed she could understand him feeling as if he were still being haunted by such a terrible force. Narvi closed her eyes and held him closer. "Then I will not let him harm you," she said against his ear. "Never again, Khel. I swear it."

"I do not think I can do this, Narvi," he said. She felt his tears soak into her tunic and tried her best to not cry herself. 

"You can," she murmured. "You are the strongest person I have ever met. And I will be here to help. I'm not going anywhere, Khel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ursuruh kurdu- my attempt at Khuzudul, if it's wrong I won't be surprised but it's supposed to be Fiery Heart I wanted it to be possessive to be my fiery heart but I'm like 90 % sure I didn't conjugate it to make it actually say that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I debated with myself, rather a lot actually, as to what Healer Narvi might go to. My initial thought was: well an Elf makes the most logical sense. But Narvi doesn't really know any Elven healers. Not personally anyway. And with how Khel is she'd be cautious about who she brings into the situation. So next thought: some dwarf she knew in Khazad-dum? Well, she'd most likely have dealt with them most often but that would mean essentially an OC which I didn't want as a main character in Khel's healing. So that pretty much left me with Oin. Now, this I worried over because Narvi and Oin, even within Sansukh have had next to no interaction. Why would she trust him with her precious elf? Then I remembered Haban. And I kicked myself for forgetting. I mean, I loved their sort of out of left field somewhat oddball friendship and it just bridged that last bit for me perfectly. I had been trying to limit direct links to Sansukh in this so it could stand alone but Haban just NEEDS to be in this now.

It was one thing to admit Khel needed more help than she could give him, it was another thing entirely to figure out where to get that help from. Narvi had never been particularly close with any healers. She went, got patched up, moved on, and that was only when she bothered to go to healers to begin with. She didn't always, especially for little things. She knew even fewer Elven healers. The Elves might have a better chance of understanding all the issues Celebrimbor was suffering with since his Fëa had also been brutalized, but she was beginning to think his avoidance of Glorfindel meant that Khel wouldn't welcome any Elves near him.

She waited until Glorfindel made another appearance and gently suggested to Khel that he might want to at least go say hello for once. The speed at which he shot that idea down, in her mind, confirmed her assumptions. An Elven healer would most likely not be seen. She had her suspicions as to the why but didn't want to voice them aloud.

There were a few healers that Narvi had known when she was alive the first time, but none of them very well. She also wasn't convinced that they would treat Khel as he should be treated. After all of that... unpleasantness she wasn't familiar enough with those healers to know how they felt about Khel. It was probably best to go to someone she knew would at least keep any comments to themselves.

There weren't many candidates. Still, there was one that she was fairly certain had a somewhat better understanding of Elves than most Dwarves. Not for any experience in life but because his nephew was the only Dwarf to have actually married himself an Elf. At the absolute bare minimum, Óin would have practice keeping his opinion on Elves to himself. Gimli had always been a rather protective husband, even after death, much to Narvi's secret amusement. And it certainly helped that Óin was Haban's son. If there was one Dwarrow (outside of craftsman) that Narvi could claim to be friends with it was her.

Haban actually accepted Narvi's quirks with little fuss, something that was a rarity among non-craftsmen. They had struck up a rather healthy friendship while they were dead and Haban was one of the very few people Narvi had told where her home was located. The other notable person being Glorfindel, who was helpful until he wasn't. Haban, unlike certain golden-haired Elves, had obeyed Narvi's silent request for privacy. Narvi had always been a rather private person and now had even more reason to be. They met, rarely, for drinks at times in town. But it had been some time since Narvi had done so what with caring for Khel.

Now, however, Narvi needed Haban's help to find Óin, since Narvi had absolutely no reason to know where the healer was. Luckily, Haban had told Narvi where her and her husband now lived.

It wasn't hard to find the rather grand house in the Dwarven Quarter of the emersion city. It was traditional Dwarven stone work and was a bit larger than necessary for just Haban and Gróin. But Narvi imagined that Haban was counting on her family visiting. Narvi had no idea if that actually happened or not but there was obviously room for it.

Narvi felt a little bad for obviously neglecting her friend when Haban opened the door and looked surprised to see her. "Narvi!"

"Haban." The craftswoman felt incredibly awkward suddenly and she wasn't fond of the feeling. She wasn't sure how to broach this topic. It felt a bit too... personal. Narvi hated these sorts of conversations. She was just so bad at them. Why couldn’t people be easier to deal with? Like Mithril? Or jewels? Or Moon Runes? Or gears? "Can I come in?"

Again, Haban looked surprised, but stepped to the side to allow Narvi into her home. Narvi followed Haban into a small cozy little sitting room and tried to figure out how to broach this rather uncomfortable topic. She was saved from having to do that, though, by Haban, "What's bothering you, Narvi? I've never seen you like this before."

Narvi made a face but didn't protest the observation. "Your son-"

Haban gave a noise of exasperation. "Which one and what did he do this time?"

"Nothing," Narvi said with a little half smile. "But I would like Óin's help with something… and perhaps yours to convince him to give his expertise."

"Narvi, Óin would not need my convincing to help you with something," Haban said. "But why do you need his expertise? I assume you mean as a healer? What need have you for a healer in this new world?"

Narvi shook her head. "It's not for me that I need his help. And that is why I might need you to help convince him." Haban raised an eyebrow but just let Narvi continue without asking. Narvi sighed and ran a hand through her braids. "You know of Celebrimbor, yes?"

"That Elf friend of yours? Of course, everyone knows of him," Haban confirmed. "Did you finally find him then?"

The craftswoman wondered how Haban knew that Narvi had been looking for Khel in the first place but brushed that off. "I didn't, but Mahal brought him to me…" Haban looked a little surprised at that. "But he's not the same, Haban. He was hurt so badly… I can't help him anymore. I thought… Óin might have better luck."

Haban was quiet for a moment. "I'm sure that Óin will help, but… why not take him to an Elven healer. Like Lord Elrond? Would that not be more appropriate?"

"I do not think Khel would see an Elven healer," Narvi admitted.

"Why not?" Haban asked.

"He is ashamed, I think."

"Why ever for? He's one of the most famous Elves to have ever lived."

Narvi glared, not so much angry at her friend, but at the situation. "He's famous for being tricked into making weapons for the enemy, being tortured to death, and having his body desecrated before being used as a sick trophy. Nobody ever remembers the good he did. The wonders he made that weren't tainted by that scum. I cannot blame him for wanting to avoid people if that is all they remember of him!"

Haban held up her hands defensively. "I didn't mean it like that. I simply can't see the Elves not wanting to help him."

A heavy sigh escaped the craftswoman. "Neither can I," Narvi muttered. "I know they would be only too happy to help him. But what I know and what Khel believes are not the same thing… He will not face Glorfindel at all so I cannot think he would be any more willing to face an Elven healer. I thought, that perhaps, a Dwarven one would… be easier."

"I see. I suppose that makes sense," Haban mused. "Don't worry, Narvi. Óin will be glad to help."

Narvi studied her friend carefully. "You're sure?" Óin had no personal reason to help Khel. It wasn't as if they knew each other. And Óin wasn't that well versed in Elven healing. He'd only briefly seen it a few times from what Narvi knew.

Haban sighed a little and put her hands on her hips. "Narvi, anyone who has ever known you, alive or dead, knows that you are near impossible to impress. Celebrimbor did so, didn't he?"

"He had centuries to practice his craft…" Narvi muttered somewhat more defensively than she meant to.

"He still did," Haban pointed out. "Not only is he a master craftsman but he is your friend. Plus, Mahal himself brought him to you. Not another Elf. You. Well, that makes him practically an honorary Dwarf in my mind. He's one of us, Narvi. We'll be glad to help you take care of him. Any honorable Dwarf will tell you the same."

Narvi could only stare in surprise. Of all the reactions she had imagined… that had not been one of them. She was surprised to find herself so touched over such a small thing. And she certainly hadn't expected Haban to essentially 'claim' Khel as an honorary Dwarf just because Mahal had been the one to bring him back. Well, it made a little bit of sense considering Mahal was the maker of Dwarves, but Khel was still very much an Elf; a wounded Elf that could barely seem to function without some sort of help, but an Elf nonetheless. Narvi wasn't convinced that 'any' Dwarf honorable or not would agree, but it was a heartwarming thing to hear from her friend. Despite a few reservations about Haban’s statements still, Narvi decided to take them as they were given. "Thank you, Haban."

"Of course. I'll talk to Óin myself."

"If you tell me where he is, I'll go and explain the situation to him," Narvi suggested.

Haban waved her hand a little. "Don't you worry about that. I'll send him to you. You can explain everything then. Whatever Celebrimbor is dealing with won't change if he helps or not. Which I'm sure he will."

Narvi was more than a little apprehensive at that but nodded. "Give me a week to get a room ready for him."

"I'll be sure to tell him," Haban agreed. "Don't worry, Narvi. Óin will help him. My boy might not know Elves like you do but there’s no finer healer."

Again, Narvi nodded before getting to her feet. It wouldn't be hard to get the room ready. She wouldn't tell Khel the reason for Óin living with them but she would make something up that sounded reasonable. She didn't want Khel getting defensive about a healer before he was even there. Not to mention that Narvi was a little nervous about anyone living in their home besides them. She didn't want to disrupt what calm and peace Khel had managed to get while in the safety of their home. That was the very last thing that she wanted to do.

Of course, Khel was anything but stupid. It didn’t take him very long to notice Narvi turning one of the small underground rooms into a bedroom. He knew it wasn’t for him as Narvi had already said she had planned for him to be in the tower and besides that, the bed was still Dwarven sized. He didn’t say anything about it at first but waited a few days later at breakfast to ask what Narvi’s new project was.

“A friend of mine’s son. He needs a place to stay for a little while. I said I’d put him up,” Narvi said casually.

“A friend’s son?” Khel echoed, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Why does he need a place to stay?”

Narvi shrugged. “Apparently, he’s a life long bachelor. He was staying with his brother and his wife but felt like he was out of place. So until his own house is finished I offered him a room. It’s not for long. I hope you don’t mind.”

Celebrimbor was silent for a moment before shaking his head. Narvi was a little worried he’d see through her lie and focused on her breakfast. “Of course not. You may invite whomever into your home you wish… I simply worry I may offend him in some way.”

“Don’t be daft. Of course you wont. And this is your home too, silly Elf,” Narvi told him. “You don’t even have to see him if you don’t want to. I’ll make sure he knows you’re not feeling up to much company when he gets here.” Narvi was not about to admit that Óin probably already knew at least a little of that from what Haban had told him.

“You are sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Have I ever not been sure?” Narvi asked back.

Celebrimbor smiled a little. “A very fine point, _mellon _.”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to recap. Haban is kick ass and I love her. And my heart melts when she claims Khel as honorary Dwarf. Narvi's does too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super worried about Oin being right! GAH!
> 
> So, in case it wasn't clear enough before, this Narvi is a Blacklock (explicitly stated in this chapter) mostly because my head canon now has combined with that of Sansukh until it was too together to make sense of. Plus, I just think it's adorable that they are so entirely different... you know Ginger Elf and BAMF Dwarf of Color. The specific version of Narvi that has stuck in my head (and so that this is based most off of) is the one drawn by christmashippo found in the master post or for the first time in chapter 32 of Sansukh.
> 
> Also, thought I'd address that whole family thing with Khel... because the whole point of Arda remade is that all them should be back now too... and I honestly didn't want to get into that just now. So maybe they'll appear later but certain not anytime soon. Narvi doesn't want to put Khel through that... and I don't want to write Feanor.

Narvi couldn't quite help but be nervous at the fact that Óin was coming to live with them. A lot could go wrong here. Especially if Khel took exception to being helped despite his apparent desire not to be. Óin would have his work cut out for him at the very least. By the time the healer arrived, Narvi had easily made everything necessary for a second Dwarf to live in their home and even started work on a bed big enough for Khel, though that was slow going as she wanted it a certain way and she wasn't as good at carving wood as she would like for the things she had to do.

When Óin arrived, Celebrimbor had, thankfully, been up in his conservatory so Narvi could spend some time explaining things to the Dwarf. The first thing she had to do was, of course, show Óin how to get into their home. Due to Khel's avoidance of crafting, the doors she had planned were still not finished and were fickle in opening due to a lack of spellwork that only Khel had known. There was definitely a trick to it and it took a few tries for Óin to get the hang of it. Once he had, Narvi took Óin on a short but succinct tour of the main floor of the house. 

Once Óin had dropped his bags in the room Narvi set aside for him, he turned to her. "Right then. Tell me what's wrong with the Elf." Narvi decided right then that she rather liked Óin. No messing around. She definitely appreciated that.

"He's..." Narvi had to take a moment to try and figure out a way to explain it how Óin would understand. After a few moments, she finally settled on something she figured Óin would at least understand the gravity of. "He's how I would be if I suddenly couldn't craft anymore. Hollow."

Óin raised one bushy eyebrow and Narvi looked away towards the wall. "When you see him, you'll understand better. I know Elves better than most. But even for an Elf he barely eats. He's slept more in a few days than I ever knew him to the first time we were alive. It's as if the fire that kept him going's just... burnt itself out and he can't find the strength or energy to keep going on his own anymore. I have to almost pull him from bed in the mornings and remind him to eat. _He_ was the one always reminding _me_ to eat." The reversal of their roles was still disturbing to her.

"So, depressed then," Óin surmised.

Narvi nodded. "And he puts too much blame on himself... over what happened. I would call it survivor's guilt except, well-"

"He didn't survive," Óin finished. "Aye, I can see why you've had your hands full. Not easy things to fix those. Now, tell me why ya came to me and not Elrond or someone."

She had rather hoped Haban would have explained that part but just shifted her weight to her other foot before beginning. "Glorfindel comes by every few weeks. Khel refuses to see him. Stays hidden away the whole time. I think he's afraid or embarrassed for other Elves to see him. He was never one of those superior, proud, Elves, but a lot happened that he seems to think is his fault."

"Wouldn't that mean he wouldn't want Dwarves to see him any more'n he'd want Elves to?" Óin asked quizzically.

"Dwarves wouldn't know how he's suffering," Narvi said. "Or, most wouldn't. But he forgets I know what he should be like. And speaking of, he does. Forget things that is..." That was painful to admit. Khel had always had such a wonderfully clever mind and that anything at all was escaping him simply seemed impossible to her, despite having seen the truth of it herself. "Not often... just enough to notice sometimes he has problems that he didn't before."

Óin seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding. "Right then, any physical injuries you know about?"

"Just old ones," Narvi muttered. "From his torture... his hands are the worst of it, but I didn't want to bring that up until he was feeling more like himself."

"That's odd he'd still have those..." Óin muttered thoughtfully. So far, everyone reborn had more or less been reborn in the peak of health with no real injuries at all. Dain had been an exception as he'd asked to remain with only one foot and a few other notable Dwarves with similar life long impairments still carried them over. Óin knew of no Elves, however, that still had lingering injuries. None of those released from Mandos' halls retained their wounds from their deaths, and none that returned from beyond the sea had any evidence of their first time on Arda scarred across their timeless bodies. At least, not that Óin knew of.

"Maybe because he didn't return through normal means," Narvi offered. "Mahal had to pull him back from the void. But he's still an Elf and Mahal doesn't make Elven bodies..."

Óin thought for a moment before nodding a little. "True. Ya may be onto something there. But either way, it doesn't matter. I've treated my fair share of old wounds too. And, if none seem to be bothering him day to day, then you're right to worry about his mind first."

"It may take him time to allow you to see him," Narvi said. "He's become... very shy."

"How shy is 'very' shy?"

Narvi shifted uncomfortably again. "Perhaps shy is not the right word..."

"Withdrawn?" Óin offered. Narvi winced slightly at the word but then nodded. When she thought the word 'withdrawn', Khel wasn't the person she thought of, but she couldn't deny that it now fit. Óin hummed thoughtfully as he straightened his mustache. "If he were a Dwarf, I'd just make him face others no matter what he wanted, but I'm not sure if that's the smartest way to deal with an Elf." Dwarves usually responded quite well to the 'tough love' mentality. You could just outstubborn them into getting better... most times, anyway.

Narvi could only shrug helplessly. This was precisely why she'd been forced to get help. She had no real idea what the best thing to do in this situation was either. "Maybe it'd be best to ask an Elf. Khel doesn't want to see them but that doesn't mean you couldn't go to them on his behalf and get some advice."

"Probably smartest thing to do," Óin agreed. "Course, from the legends I heard about your friend he was pretty Dwarf-like to begin with, so maybe I'm worrying over nothing."

"Dwarf-like in some ways... painfully Elvish in others," Narvi offered with a snort. "Can't ever seem to be quiet when he's working and shameless as anything..." 

Óin glanced over at Narvi but decided to not comment on the fondness he heard easily in her voice. Everyone knew they had been good friends. And he was a believer in just doing his bloody job, which didn't include speculating on famous Dwarves and their unusual fondness for their equally famous Elven colleagues. He was usually happier when he didn't go snooping in other people's lives. "Right, so, I'll go talk to Elrond once I get a better feel for everything that's going on. I don't think he's settled too far from here. Making a New Rivendell, I hear, somewhere a bit to the North."

Narvi supposed that made sense. The Dwarves were rebuilding Khazad-dûm and the other great halls of Arda Marred. Why wouldn't the Elves remake their own impressive cities? Rivendell wasn't her idea of a well-constructed city, but then she was only too much a Dwarf. Even though she felt the whole thing was likely to collapse she had to admit it was very pretty... in an Elvish sort of way.

"Any other things you'd like to mention?" Óin asked.

There was plenty that Óin might find helpful to know that Narvi was privy to. Like the terrible things that Khel suffered at the hands of those monsters or the terrible gaping wounds she had seen when she'd held the shard of starlight he had first appeared as. But Narvi just shook her head and didn't mention those things. She didn't feel comfortable explaining those things to him. It felt too personal and too private to go talking about. Even to a healer. Perhaps, after some time, she might work up the courage to discuss it with Óin, but not now.

"There is something else I was wondering," Óin said after a moment. "Why keep his return a secret?"

Narvi sighed. "Because he's still suffering so much," she muttered. "You don't try to reheat metal the moment you've cooled it off. It needs a chance to rest... and so does Khel." Celebrimbor was too fragile from everything he endured to be able to handle the beating that dealing with other people were sure to inflict on him, even by accident. Óin nodded a little. It did make sense. If the Elf couldn't even handle facing friends asking him to face the common populace was a bit much. "Also..."

Óin blinked a bit in surprise as Narvi's expression twisted. She looked a bit upset and awkward. "Also what?"

"Also," again Narvi hesitated. "I don't want Khel's father showing up." Again, Óin was surprised but Narvi continued, "Well, any of his family really. You remember the stories, I take it?"

Óin nodded. There were few that didn't know at least some of the horrible things that had happened after the Silmaril's were made and then stolen. "They didn't get along with each other then?" Óin asked uneasily.

Narvi shook her head. "It's not about getting along. He didn't talk about his family much... but when he did I could tell he found it painful. He doesn't need to face people who bring him pain when he's suffering from so much of it already. So, the fewer people know he's here the less chance of Curufin showing up... or Mahal forbid Fëanor..."

Óin winced a little. He may not be a scholar of all the different intricacies of Elven history but he did know about Fëanor. And how paranoid and crazed he'd become. Though there was no telling if the Elf had been cured of that madness upon being reborn, since Óin had certainly never met the legendary smith, Óin thought Narvi was probably right to avoid that... mess for the good of Celebrimbor's own recovery. "I'll be sure to keep any questions quiet," Óin assured Narvi. "Elrond'll probably agree. Seems ta be mostly decent sort."

Narvi didn't realize she was tense until she breathed a small sigh of relief. "Good. Thank you. Oh, and so that you know, I didn't tell Khel why you were here or what you were. Just that you were a friend's son who needed a place to stay."

"Probably for the best. Wouldn't want him running before he even gets a chance to know me," Óin said. He would approach this as carefully as he could. Getting a depressed, withdrawn, guilt-ridden Elf-Lord treated was going to be tough. The key was going to be getting, Celebrimbor to trust him which was also not going to be particularly easy. Like drawing poison or infection from a wound it had to be done carefully, deliberately, and usually, by nature of the first two, slowly. This was much the same, he figured.

"If I were to let him come to me," Óin began thoughtfully, "how long do ya think it would take?"

Narvi frowned and thought about that. "Considering he has dodged Glorfindel for several months now... perhaps quite some time," she admitted. "Then again, Glor doesn't live here. It's easier to dodge someone when you know they have to go home at some point."

"Don't interrupt anything," Óin said after a minute of thinking about the situation. "Continue as if I weren't here at all an' I'll keep things soft for a while. Let him get used to me like. If he avoids me at first, that's fine but sooner or later he'll relax and then I can start working with him. It'll be no good if he's all wrapped up."

There were a few minutes of silence between the two Dwarves. "Thank you for doing this, Óin. It means a lot to me," she finally said. She felt awkward admitting to such a thing but she wasn't about to dance around it either. Celebrimbor meant more to her than most and seeing him in the state he as currently had been more than a little discomforting. She needed him better just as much as she needed new projects to work on. The reason he was so important to her where Bar and Telchar hadn't been nearly as integral escaped her and she didn't feel like examining it anyway. She just knew it was true and that she would do whatever she could for him. Even getting the help that he needed.

Óin waved her comment away. "Ma explained how important he is to you. Don't ya think anything of it. Way I see it, if he was good enough for helping to build the doors of Khazad-dûm, he's friend enough to help when he needs it."

Narvi smiled a little. "Those damn doors nearly had me throwing his fool self off the bridge of Khazad-dûm..." she murmured fondly. "No idea what Durin was thinking putting two perfectionists on one project..."

"It was impressive, though," Óin said with a grin.

"An impressive headache," she retorted. Óin decided not to mention that it was strange for something she called a headache to be recreated partially in the front of her home. Pointing out that it wasn't as bad as she complained about seemed unnecessary. "Anyway, I'll let you get settled in. I'll come get you for lunch, until then I'll be in the workshop. Khel'll probably stay up in his conservatory."

Óin nodded in understanding. "If I need anything before that, I'll come and find you."

Narvi started for the workshop but then, halfway there, changed her mind. Instead, she headed up the tower to where Khel was sure to be. Sure enough, he was in the Conservatory surrounded by his little oasis of plants and remarkable views. But, he was not, currently, enjoying the sights. He was curled up on his couch in Reverie with a book resting near his head. Narvi couldn't help but smile a little as she crossed the short distance and picked up the book. It was one that Glorfindel had brought for the redhead and was written in some ancient Elvish form that Narvi couldn't read. Celebrimbor seemed to have enjoyed it though, so that made it worth it.

She put the book on the small side table and pulled the dark blue blanket up over the Elf's narrow shoulder. He seemed to wake and blinked a few times, "Narvi?"

"Hey," she greeted as she sat down beside him. "I just wanted to let you know our guest arrived."

Celebrimbor frowned a little. "Our guest... the friend's son?"

"That's right. He's staying with us for a little while, remember?" She didn't draw extra attention to his apparent difficulty remembering. It always seemed to be worse when he freshly came out of Reverie, almost as if it took him a moment to reorient himself to the world he was now living it.

"Yes, yes, of course. He's arrived then."

Narvi nodded. "Yes, he's in his room settling in. Just wanted to tell you, though."

Celebrimbor smiled some. "You are so considerate, _mellon_..."

"Only for you, Khel," Narvi replied. If he were anyone else, well, he wouldn't be living here in the first place much less be given any of her consideration. Celebrimbor was the only one she cared enough to do such things for.

"You are not as callous as you try to be, Narvi."

"Quiet now, you'll ruin my reputation."

"Well, I would never seek to do such a thing on purpose."

"Of course you wouldn't." Narvi reached over to adjust the clasp holding Khel's hair back. He always seemed to jar it strangely to one side when he went to sleep with it in his hair. "For always lying so still when you sleep you get your hair into such a mess. It's ridiculous."

He just smiled a little. "If I were so inclined, I might muss my hair simply to keep you entertained," he said. "Luckily for me, my hair manages to keep you entertained without my help."

She snorted a little. "Entertained, you say. Driven to the desire to take a knife to it, more likely," she threatened. It was an entirely empty threat and judging from his slight smile he knew it. She would never be able to bring herself to cut off his glorious hair.

"You do not fool me, Narvi," he said, still smiling gently. "Rave and bemoan it all you wish, but I know you better than that."

"You keep thinking that, fool Elf," she replied as she got to her feet. "I'm far more difficult to understand than you would like to admit. Do you need me to bring you anything?" She doubted that he would actually ask for anything but she made a point to keep offering. Hopefully, one day, he would actually express some interest in something or desire to take care of himself. Now with Óin here, perhaps that day would come sooner rather than later.

"No, Narvi. I'm quite fine here as I am," he replied as he lifted a hand to push a few loose strands of hair, which had escaped his clasp at some point, back away from his face. Narvi tried to ignore the strange mix of irritation and fondness as those strands immediately fell forward again. It really was hopeless. And damn him if he didn't still look so elegant and lovely while disheveled like that. It was hardly fair.

If she were to ever dare take her hair out of the millions of braids she kept it in for longer than it took to wash and rebraid them, it would leave her in a complete mess. Her hair was, like her richly colored skin, very much a product of her Blacklock roots. It was recalcitrant to the extreme. If she were to just sleep with her hair undone like he did, well, it would be a tangled, matted mess within a few moments. It would most likely take all day to get it managed again. "Elven hair is entirely unfair," she announced. She hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but it wasn't as if it were untrue so she wasn't going to do anything silly like take it back.

Celebrimbor, for his part, seemed amused by her -very legitimate- observation. "Perhaps you should ask Lord Aulë to impart more obedient hair upon your people," he suggested lightly.

Narvi snorted. "He made us this way... I wouldn't put it past him to find it amusing our hair is so difficult."

"You complain, but I know you are quite proud of your hair, Narvi," before she could really reply he continued, "with good reason. It is just as lovely as an Elf's."

The craftswoman felt her face heat up under her beard. "Ridiculous Elf. Now you're just making a fool of yourself saying such things."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are," Narvi argued. "My hair is entirely typical. Every Blacklock has this same thick black mess of hair that I do."

"Not so," Khel argued as he pushed himself up. "Your hair is far from typical. It may not be a bright color but is instead black as the night sky and the beads you use are the stars. It is quite beautiful... especially in the forge when the fire reflects off the metal... I especially like it when you used those thin strands of metal interwoven in your braids. It was very fetching."

Narvi felt the need to blush again but fought it. She remembered very few times when she had gone out of her way and put strands of precious metal in her braids. One of those times had been the first time she had met the Elven neighbors of Khazad-dûm. She had wanted to make a certain impression. It had taken nearly a full day to undo and then redo all of her braids in such a way. She hadn't realized any of the Elves had even noticed. They certainly hadn't said anything. It had been very annoying. Narvi wasn't vain per say but she did like it when her efforts were duly appreciated. The very idea that Celebrimbor _had_ noticed was surprising. It probably shouldn't be. He was quite observant, but it was. And it was also a bit surprising that she found she _liked_ that he had noticed. 

"That was far too much trouble to do," Narvi muttered simply for something to say in response to the unexpected compliment.

"Mm, perhaps. But it was very much worth it," he said, putting his chin on his knees.

"You, my Elvish Lord, are a complete sap. Read too much of that poetry and laments," she said gruffly. "It's got your head all muddled."

He chuckled some at that, his blue eyes sparkling with good humor at the teasing. "You are so very terrible at taking compliments, Narvi. It's really quite remarkable. Surely, I cannot be the first to compliment your hair."

As a matter of fact, he wasn't. Several Dwarves had in the past. She realized many years later that they had been trying to flirt with her but they'd always made the mistake of trying when she was in the middle of a project, so it had flown by with barely any recognition. He was the only Elf to say such things though. "You are a flighty Elf Lord who can't even hum a decent tune, I've learned not to take anything you say too seriously," she said flippantly. It got the laugh she was hoping it would get so she smiled a little. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

Celebrimbor nodded. "I'm certain, my friend. Thank you."

"Alright. I'll be in the workshop if you need me for anything," she told him even though she doubted he would come and get her. He didn't step anywhere near the workshop. Not even to come and find her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEEY another chapter! Yay!
> 
> So, also, I've started a twitter account specifically for writing where people can harass me for updates or ask questions or answer questions and just all around be more communicative. The account is **@BFay_Miller** which is the name my original novels are self published under. The account isn't contained to just fanfiction but all my writing and is super new (it has like three tweets on it)! So, if you wanna follow me and harass and or just chitter (chat+twitter aren't I clever?) go ahead! More the merrier. And if not, well, I'm not going to stop replying to comments or anything.

It ended up taking something like two weeks for Khel to actually meet Óin. The traumatized elf had done a very remarkable job in keeping hidden. Not that Óin made it particularly difficult. He didn’t linger in the kitchen, for instance, knowing that Celebrimbor was probably not interested in sharing a meal just yet and that the Elf was more in need of the food than Óin was. It wasn’t particularly hard to hang around his room a bit more to give Celebrimbor a chance to muddle through his own meals at his own pace.

When he wasn’t doing something along the lines of eating, Óin stayed far away from any common areas that Khel might find himself. Óin didn’t really need to make the effort to stay in his room or outside of the house since Khel had hidden himself away as well but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Plus, he was still learning where everything was. Narvi’s work was indeed remarkable but also quite complex, and there were little, hidden features in many of the rooms to be figured out. 

When they finally did meet, Óin barely said anything to Celebrimbor at all. Just a polite but somewhat gruff hello before wandering back to his own room. He wasn’t nearly as adept at reading Elven body language as someone such as Narvi was but the legendary smith had been so incredibly and obviously uncomfortable that Óin hadn’t even entertained the idea of continuing the meeting into an actual conversation.

Óin gave Khel space after that initial brief meeting with a calm patience that he only ever really seemed able to pull out when he was dealing with children or the injured. He was rewarded for that three days later when Celebrimbor actually ate breakfast with both dwarves before retreating up his tower. Óin kept himself from directly addressing the Elf although he did keep an eye on the redhead’s behavior. The healer quickly saw why Narvi had been so concerned about her friend. He had spoken barely three words, and he was too thin, which only made his crooked fingers stand out even more. Celebrimbor rarely looked Óin’s way, instead keeping his attention either on his food or on Narvi. Narvi didn’t seem to notice her friend’s avoidance of eye contact since he didn’t avoid it with her but Óin definitely did notice. The one time he had caught the Elf’s eye, Óin had not liked the look in them. He’d seen the look before, and it never boded well.

The reborn healer also found very quickly that he wasn’t all that happy with the amount of food Celebrimbor had eaten. Or perhaps more accurately, he was not pleased about the amount that Celebrimbor _hadn’t_ eaten. Especially considering how the Elf’s wrists jutted out just a bit too much.

Dwarves were no real strangers to surviving on smaller rations than they truly should and Elves didn’t really need a whole lot of food either. But the amount that Celebrimbor hadn’t eaten was worrisome. He’d barely managed to get through half of his meal before stopping, and Óin had already been somewhat unhappy with the amount that Narvi had given the Elf to eat. “Does he always eat that little?” Óin asked after he was certain that Celebrimbor had gotten far enough up his tower to not overhear with those ears of his.

Narvi shook her head. “No, but he doesn’t usually eat too much more. I think he was nervous being around you to really force himself to eat more.”

“Tha’s not enough… even for a twiggy Elf…”

“I know,” Narvi muttered as she stabbed at her own bits of their meal with her fork. “But what am I suppose to do? Shove it down his throat?”

“No, ‘course not,” Óin said with a wave of his hand. “I was jus’ thinkin’ that it might be better to bring him snacks or something. Make him eat more often if he won’t eat enough at once.”

“Oh? And what would you suggest?”

She was trying her best to not be too sour and unhappy, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She was running out of ideas on ways to cajole Khel into eating more. Narvi wasn’t sure if she could manage to do it even _more_ often than she was already. Óin was quiet for a few moments as he thought about the question. “Was there anythin’ he really liked ta eat before?”

Narvi thought back for a moment before sighing. “Yes, but I don’t know how to make it…” she muttered in annoyance.

“Well, what is it?”

Again, Narvi sighed. “There was… there was this bread the Elves made back in Eregion. We had it all the time when I visited him. With every meal, it felt like, there was a loaf or two out. I have no idea how it was made and even if I did, I burn things I try to bake.”

Óin thought about that with a little hum. “Would he know how ta make it, then?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Narvi admitted. “Khel cooked but I don’t think he baked really… and apparently, they’re different or something.”

“Mm, well, is there anything else then? Somethin’ ya would know how ta make?”

Narvi shrugged a little. “Not really anything I can think of… What about you? Can you bake?”

Óin snorted. “Nah something I put a lotta time inta learnin’, no,” he said. He might have been a life long bachelor that could feed himself, but that didn’t mean he’d put all that much effort into the exercise Usually, if there was something he wanted that was beyond his abilities to make, he would either shrug and move on or buy it from someone who was more capable. He’d always had other things to deal with more in relation to medicine than cooking. Especially after he’d met Bombur, who was always more than willing to do all of the complicated cooking for his bachelor friends.

Narvi sighed. “Right. Well then, what are we to do?”

“You could try’n make it anyway,” Óin suggested with a half shrug.

The Master Craftswoman couldn’t quite stop herself from making a face. “Not something I really want to spend all of my time doing, to be honest.”

Óin shrugged again. “Get it sent by someone who knows how ta make it? There’s gotta be some Elves ‘round that know, right?”

Narvi allowed herself to think about that for a moment before frowning. She was sure that there _were_ Elves nearby that would be able to do it for Khel. But the one Glorfindel was most likely to ask for help was Galadriel (since he’d gotten her to help with Celebrimbor’s chair) and Narvi wasn’t very enthused with the idea of going to Galadriel for help again. Especially with something like getting Khel to eat more and making his favorite bread. She decided it was safer to not examine the reasons behind her distaste for the idea. Surely, if couldn’t be that hard to make could it? She had designed an oven that was really quite remarkable in how efficient it was. It made sense to test it out didn’t it?

“I’ll see what I can do,” Narvi said after a few more moments of mentally debating with herself about the pros and cons of her different possible choices. Khel already thought she couldn’t cook and even used to tease her about it (not that she ever really cared) she wasn’t entirely certain if she wanted to add not knowing how to bake on top of that.

“You do that. I’m writin’ back an’ forth with Elrond about this. I’ll write to him today an’ see if he’s got any bright ideas ‘bout gettin’ squirrely Elves ta eat,” Óin said as he leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard almost absently in thought. “There’s gotta be a trick ta it. He can’t be the only one ta stop eatin’ well after somethin’ so traumatic.” He knew that lack of appetite was a fairly common ailment after trauma with the mortal races at least. He couldn’t imagine it would be all that different for Elves despite all their… Elfness.

“You’ve had more.. patience with him than I thought you’d have,” Narvi admitted after a few moments. “Thank you.”

Óin waved her comment and thanks away. “Common sense,” he declared. “No healer worth his salt would come righ’ up ta a person tha’s gone through what you’ve told me he has an’ start barkin’ orders and expect it ta go well.” Of course, over the years, he _had_ met some idiots who would be that stupid but then again, Óin said a healer that was worth his salt and he didn’t consider those to be such. Usually, they were idiots who didn’t really think about their patients as whole people all the time. Óin had had a hell of a time with the healers after the Battle of Five Armies. Part of the reason he’d taken over so much of the healing efforts was that he disagreed with how a number of the others had been treating the injured. Not that they were cruel or anything like that, but they didn’t always _think_ before they said or did something.

“Still,” Narvi said though she didn’t repeat the thanks. Óin didn’t look like he particularly wanted thanks, which suited her fine as she wasn’t the biggest fan of saying it.

“You should go an’ do yer work,” Óin said as he got up from his chair. “I’ll go start that letter ta Elrond. Letting Celebrimbor have some time after meetin’ someone new for the first time’ll probably be the best choice anyway.”

Narvi wasn’t entirely sure but bowed to Óin’s advice. What was the point in bringing him here if she didn’t even listen to what he had to say? She wasn’t one to ignore the advice of those more knowledgeable than herself, even if she didn’t actually like to do it. Or even admit that someone else might know more. “What about lunch?”

“We’ll see if he feels like joinin’ us or not. Best ta let ‘im set the pace at firs’,” Óin answered. He wouldn’t be surprised if the reclusive Elf didn’t join them, though. In fact, he wouldn’t really be surprised if Celebrimbor didn’t allow himself to be seen for a few days despite nothing really happening. It happened with people who got betrayed as badly as he had. In fact, it was a bit more surprising that he _wasn’t_ hiding from Narvi. “You know, he’s really not doing so badly,” Óin offered. “He still trusts you, at least.”

The Craftswoman blinked a little in confusion. What exactly was he trying to get at? “Is that… rare, then?”

Óin gave a strange motion somewhere between a shrug and a nod. “A bit. After what happened, I wouldn’ be surprised if he didn’ trust anyone ever again. Bu’ he seems ta trust you completely. Bu’ that’s a good thing, Narvi. Means we actually can help him.”

“Don’t know why he would…” Narvi muttered. She hadn’t done much. She hadn’t helped him. She should have found some way to help him, but she hadn’t. Being dead was hardly an excuse she found. It hadn’t stopped others from doing things after all. “I mean, really, I didn’t do much. And he’s known Glor for longer…”

The healer raised an eyebrow and filed that little tidbit away. “Maybe ‘cause he has more in common with you,” Óin suggested neutrally. It sounded to him like Celebrimbor wasn’t the only one in this house putting a bit too much guilt on his own shoulders. “Either way, he lets ya help him an’ that’s a lot more’n some do after somethin’ like that.”

“I guess,” Narvi said, though she still wasn’t entirely satisfied.

Óin reached over and put a hand on Narvi’s shoulder. “It’ll all work out. We’ll get ‘im better, Narvi. Even if it takes a while.”

Narvi nodded in agreement but didn’t really reply. She didn’t have much to say about it that she hadn’t already said. It wasn’t as if she was going to be giving up on him. She wouldn’t ever do that. But that didn’t make it any easier to see him as he was. And Óin’s words didn’t really bring all that much comfort either. Óin seemed to realize that, though, so he gave her shoulder a bit of a squeeze.

After that, Óin headed off to his own room, and Narvi cleaned up. As she cleaned up the dishes and leftover food, her eyes kept drifting towards the oven she had made and never used. It couldn’t be that hard to learn how to bake some stupid bread, could it? She could forge near anything. Baking could not possibly be more difficult.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANGER DANGER WILL ROBINSON!
> 
> A PLOT is appearing in my head... which is always dangerous because people get hurt when there's plot around... I really didn't intend for this to get much plot beyond getting mushy Elves to be mushy again... but no. My brain is horrible and adding stuff to happen... apologies in advance I guess? And at least this will make the story longer?

It ended up taking far longer than Óin wanted it to for him to make much progress with Celebrimbor. Though, the Dwarvish healer had kept near constant communication with Elrond and a few other interested healers, their advice had, on the whole, been painfully basic and not terribly helpful. He'd known much of what they'd advised already. Óin hadn't expected much else but he'd still held out hope that the Elves would have more information than he had since it was an Elf he was dealing with. Unfortunately, it turned out that most Elves, when confronted with long torture and trauma, passed on and healed over the ages of the world in the halls of Mandos. Part of the biggest hurdle with Celebrimbor was that he hadn't been afforded that valuable healing time like all the others. 

However, there were some bright points. Elrond had some particularly insightful advice on trying to mend the broken smith that Óin didn't really want to ask too much about. Anyone who had such... personalized information, in Óin's opinion, never seemed to come by it in any pleasant way. But Óin wasn't about to let the few ideas that Elrond gave him go without at least trying them out. He certainly wouldn't have known that tea recipe that Elrond had supplied that actually seemed to make Celebrimbor relax. It was nearly imperceptible but the tension in the Elf's shoulders definitely eased after a cup of the herbal mixture. Considering one of the main herbs in it was Athelas, Óin presumed that it had some sort of role in mental healing that Óin was yet unaware of. Nobody but Elves seemed to be able to really get all of the different uses out of Kingsfoil but Óin was already making notes on how useful it could be to the other races.

Narvi was, of course, her own problem. So focused as she was on getting Celebrimbor better, she didn't even realize that Óin was carefully (oh so very carefully) trying to maneuver conversations so that he could talk her out of her own darker thoughts. It seemed to be a theme with the pair that they put far more responsibility on their shoulders than they had an reasonable expectation of carrying. For instance, Narvi seemed to think there was some way that as a dead Dwarrow she could have in any way helped her friend in the last moments of his life. It was ridiculous really but Dwarves were foolish when things got in their heads. 

Luckily, at the moment, Óin was certain that Narvi was doing what Dwarves did best and working through her own problems with various work projects. Óin was fairly comfortable leaving her to her own devices for now and only prodding at those darker thoughts on occasion. When the thoughts seemed to be closest to the surface and bothering her, for instance. 

Narvi, for her part, rarely even noticed when Óin would gently prod at her buried feelings of guilt and responsibility. She was far more interested in her work. She had, through Glorfindel, managed to get her hands on a working recipe of that bread that Khel had kept around back in his city. It had been an abject disaster really. It was normally a dark bread but she had managed to make her first attempt pure black from being charred. She wasn't even entirely certain _how_ she'd managed it as she was positive she had the fire burning properly and followed the directions to the letter. But it had been rock hard and crumbling as much as any charcoal. She hadn't even shown it to anyone and tossed it straight into the trash. She also didn't so much as _mention_ it, though she knew that at least Óin had smelled it burning. He hadn't said anything but he had that _look_.

Narvi had put aside her attempts at baking after that. At least temporarily. Instead, she had focused on the continued construction of Celebrimbor's bed. She'd been trying really quite hard to emulate the regular style of Elvish design but it was hard to do. Dwarves didn't often carve lifelike figures. Usually their statues of famous Dwarves were larger than life and as imposing as possible. Almost always in full armor with their weapons at hand and a fierceness to their expression. Elves, entirely contrary to that, tended towards life-sized or smaller than and few were depicted in armor compared to Dwarvish style. Narvi had spent days working on practice pieces before daring to try a life-sized version.

Even after the smaller practice versions, Narvi spent hours laboring over each little feature until she was certain it was how it needed to be. All in all, from the first designs to the final sanding, it took over a month of precise work just on the headboard. Two Elvish maids were holding the spiraling vine-covered posts at the head of the bed while a large stylized tree (very much like in the style Khel had used on the gates of Khazad-dum) was placed carefully in the middle of the headboard. She frowned at it and wasn't entirely happy but it looked just like she thought it should considering. She had to admit that it looked properly Elvish.

With that done, she pushed her reservations to the side and turned her attention to the rest of the bed and then furniture. With the most intricate carving done, the rest of it was a breeze of echoing the plant motifs and after only another two weeks she had a proper Elvish Lord's bedroom just below the Conservatory of the tower. She wasn't entirely certain she liked how it turned out but it wasn't really for her either. It was for Khel. She'd even put a bathing chamber on the other side of the circular floor although it had a large stone tub opposed to her own sunken tub as well as more wooden inlays throughout. Still, it was all working and filled with whatever he could possibly need. Both rooms were filled with soft fabrics and plush pillows and even curtains and rugs to soften the stone of the tower.

She had gone to great lengths to make the two rooms as nice and comfortable for him as she possibly could, but she was still second guessing her decisions. Though she had done her utmost best to emulate Elvish design it just didn't _feel_ quite right. Khel hadn't seemed entirely happy either when she showed it to him the morning after she had finished it.

Oh, he'd said it was exquisite and well done and thanked her and so forth, but Narvi prided herself on being able to read Elves and especially Celebrimbor and he just didn't seem as enthused as he normally should have. Then again, he wasn't enthused by much anymore, so perhaps Narvi was expecting too much. "Do you want anything changed?" she prodded gently.

"No," he said softly. "Everything is just fine, Narvi. You've done everything perfectly, as usual." 

"Flatterer," she accused. "You're sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Especially since I can change anything in here if you want it changed."

"I don't, Narvi," he insisted.

Narvi frowned a little and put a hand on his forearm. "I'm just worried about you. You know I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't, right?" she asked, looking up at him.

Celebrimbor stared down at her for a moment before looking off to the side at the bed. "I know, Narvi. And I appreciate it. But, everything's very nice and I'll be fine. Thank you for making so much for me. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," Narvi denied. "You couldn't spend the rest of forever cramped up in my bed."

Celebrimbor moved forward to gently finger the long drapery hanging from the posts of the bed. "You have put so much attention into this, Narvi. If I didn't know better I'd say this entire room came straight from Hollin..."

"I wanted you to be comfortable."

He smiled slightly and looked back over at her. "Thank you."

Narvi scowled and looked off to the side, annoyed that she felt embarrassed over nothing at all. "Daft thing. You don't need to thank me."

"And yet I do," he said. "I had... not thought that I would have such a thing after what happened... But then I had not thought I would ever see light again either..."

The craftswoman barely stopped the noise of protest from escaping. Narvi'd never heard him say something like that before and she couldn't believe how hearing it actually _hurt_. She moved before really thinking about it and grabbed his arm again. "Khel. You know you're safe now. Don't you?"

Celebrimbor looked away. "I know that, Narvi... but I cannot help what I thought then. Or what I sometimes still think," he said it so softly she almost couldn't hear him at all. But she had heard, and she worried about it.

Without hesitation, she yanked on his arm and nearly sent him toppling to his knee, so they were more level with each other. She pulled him again to wrap her arm tight around his body, her fingers tangling in his hair. "I swear it to you, Khel. You're safe here."

"Narvi..."

"Don't even think about arguing with me, Celebrimbor. You've never been good at it," she said as she held him. She could tell he was trembling slightly and so tightened her grip just a bit more, trying to bring him some measure of comfort and security.

The Elf took a slow, somewhat shaky breath. "I don't want to argue with you, Narvi," he murmured into her shoulder. "But I know you dislike hearing my darker thoughts..."

"Only because I hate thinking of you in pain, _ursuruh kurdu_ ," she murmured back. "And these thoughts of yours remind me how much pain you're still in. I hate them for what they did to you. How they hurt you... I wish I could take all of it from you."

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't want you to be burdened with such things, Narvi," Celebrimbor said, his broken fingers digging into the Dwarf's tunic. "I wouldn't want you to be... It would be too horrible to even imagine."

"Don't be such a self-sacrificing, noble arse, Khel," she said fiercely.

There were several painful moments of silence between them until Celebrimbor slowly pulled away from the embrace. Narvi tried her absolute best to not notice how wet his eyes were. She still hated the sight of him near tears. It didn't seem natural and it tore at her insides. She reached up and brushed a few strands of his hair back behind his delicate Elven ear. "Silly Elf," she murmured and tried her best to smile for him. It felt awkward but she ignored it. "If I could... I would take it from you. And I don't want to hear your silly protests because I know you would have done the same for me should it have been reversed."

He managed a wane smile back. "And you would scold me for saying what you just said should things have been reversed," he pointed out. "I do not think you have room to scold."

She snorted. "Except I'm far more sensible than you. Makes more sense for me, is all."

"Does it now?"

"Of course," she said with utter confidence. Silence reigned again but this time it was less awkward and painful. Almost absently, she brushed his hair back again. "I made you your own bathing chamber too. Let me show you," she said before giving him a slight tug.

He obediently got to his feet to follow her to the door in the wall that bisected the circular room. He looked around the slightly odd shaped room and gently ran his fingers along the various surfaces. "You humble me again, _mellon_... you move through different styles so very easily. I would be hard pressed to make rooms so authentically Dwarven."

She snorted. "Don't lie. I remember quite a few things you did that no Dwarf alive would think was wrought by an Elf." The easiest that came to mind was a certain set of seven rings, but she was careful to avoid mentioning those directly. Besides, it wasn't the only thing he'd ever made. "Such as a pair of daggers you made me?"

To her surprise his face flushed pink. "Those were not my best work," he muttered. "I've never been much of a weapon smith really."

Her eyes widened. "They were razor sharp and near perfectly balanced. I'll smack you upside the head if you say such a thing again!"

"I should have made something different," he said. "You never used them."

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe I never had a reason to," she said. She didn't bother mentioning that she wasn't much of a dagger user. If she'd ever wanted to stab someone his blades would have been her first choice. "But you're missing the point. They were excellent, and any Dwarf would agree with me. And they were very Dwarvishly styled so to say you couldn't do it is a bold-faced lie." The two blades had been slightly lighter than a Dwarven smith would make but not so much as to be a distraction. They still had the heft and rigid diamond shapes that were so distinctive of Dwarven crafts. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them after she died. Probably lost, which was an immense shame. Considering how Celebrimbor was now she was doubtful she'd ever see their like again.

The Elf shook his head a little but he looked rather fond. "And now you flatter me. But with far less reason."

She sighed and bopped him lightly on the hip, since she wasn't exactly able to reach his head currently. "Stop that. There's a limit to how much modesty I'll allow from you." She would make exceptions for him considering how he'd been treated but she could only listen to him putting himself down for so long. She'd broken jaws for lesser slights against him. "Now come on. It's nearing dinner and you, Master Elf, are not allowed to miss it."

He chuckled ever so slightly. "It is too bad you did not ever have any children, Narvi. You'd have made an excellent mother, I think."

Narvi rather hated how hot her face felt at that observation. "Bah, stop being so ridiculous if you can at all help it," she grumbled as she led the way downstairs. Not at all hurrying to hide the tinge on her cheeks.

"From what you've said... I very much doubt that I can," he told her with a smile easy to hear in his voice.

"Elves," she said with a gusty sigh she only partially meant.

"Dwarves," he replied in nearly the same tone, but there was far too much amusement beneath his voice. She cast a glare over her shoulder at him. He just continued following her looking far too innocent. She tried to be annoyed with him, but she was too glad to see him being his old mischievous self even for a few moments.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oin and Khel's conversation sort of got away from me... but that results in a much longer chapter for you! (*whisper* You'd know a long chapter was coming today if you were to follow on twitter *whisper*)

“Ya look tired,” an only somewhat familiar voice said behind him.

Celebrimbor looked up instantly, a little startled at the sudden voice. Though he wasn’t up at the top of the tower where only Narvi ever ventured to find him, he wasn’t used to being approached while outside either. It was early yet, and they had only just finished breaking their fasts for the night. But Celebrimbor had been hoping that some fresh air would help clear his head a little more. And Narvi always seemed approving of the times Celebrimbor would add to his garden within the Conservatory. At the raised bushy eyebrow looking at him, Celebrimbor suddenly realized he hadn’t responded at all and had, in fact, entirely missed what had been said. “I’m sorry, Master Óin. What was that?”

“I said tha’ ya looked tired, Master Elf,” Óin said. “Not sleepin’ well?”

“As an Elf, I do not sleep like Dwarves do.”

“Don’ start with the semantics,” Óin replied without pause. “Ya know wha’ I mean.” He had noticed over the past week since the redhead had moved upstairs that the circles under his eyes had been getting steadily darker. They had always been there. But where before they were just light circles telling that his rest wasn’t always enough, now they were dark bruises that stood out even more against the pale moonstone of his skin. At first, Óin had thought things were getting better. Celebrimbor was getting up earlier and doing things before breakfast, but now he was heavily suspecting that the only reason the Elf was up early was that he hadn’t actually gotten rest during the night. He certainly didn’t look like he’d been getting much.

From what Narvi had told the healer, Celebrimbor was still napping throughout the day up on his lounge, but that didn’t seem to be making much difference. Óin suspected that the naps were only staving off the worst of the exhaustion. It certainly didn’t help that Celebrimbor seemed determined to at least try and be normal and do things throughout the day, which seemed to be about all that his naps could actually power. “Is there somethin’ wrong with yer room?” Óin asked.

“No!” Khel said perhaps a little too quickly.

Óin raised his other eyebrow at the nearly panicked response the simple question got. “Then per’aps somethin’s on yer mind?” he suggested lightly. It wouldn’t be smart for him to prod at what seemed to be a possible tender spot. Though the fact that it apparently _was_ a tender spot was interesting. He’d have to figure out why at some point. A later point, when the Elf in front of him didn’t look about ready to collapse over the small plants he was tending. He offered the legendary smith a mug of steaming tea, having already anticipated Celebrimbor needing it.

Celebrimbor blinked in surprise but took the cup. He took a small sip of the steaming herbal concoction. He stared down at the deep amber liquid even as he took a moment to really try and decipher the different tastes in the tea. The honey that had been added helped cover the various healing herbs that sometimes tasted bitter. He didn’t look up from the tea as he addressed Óin again, “You are a healer aren’t you?”

Óin wasn’t terribly upset to be caught out and was, in fact, a little surprised it had taken as long as it had. Then again, Celebrimbor rarely paid Óin much attention. “Narvi was worried about ya,” Óin said without even a hint of apology. He happened to agree with Narvi that the Elf had needed a healer’s supervision, and still did for that matter.

“She is sweet to worry, but it wasn’t needed.”

Óin couldn’t quite help the snort. “Lad, ya may be the only one in the world tha’ could call Narvi ‘sweet’.”

“It does not change the fact that she is,” Celebrimbor said, fiddling with the mug in his hand. “She just hides it well… as all Dwarves seem to like to do.”

“Ya think all Dwarves are sweet?” Óin asked, unable to help but sound incredulous.

“Well, perhaps not all,” Celebrimbor said, tilting his head slightly to the side as if considering his words. “But most seem to have a certain… softer side to them. But you are all so very intent on trying to hide it. It’s truly a shame. I think things would have been much better all around if more knew how Dwarves could truly be.”

“We’re a private people,” Óin said gruffly. “An’ don’ think I didn’t notice ya trying ta change the subject. Yer a crafty thing, I’ll grant, bu’ I happen ta agree with Narvi. Ya can’t jus’ pretend like nothin’ happened, Khelebrimbor.”

Celebrimbor looked up at that. “I am not pretending like nothing happened.”

“No? Then why aren’t ya sleeping?”

“It is not nearly as severe as you seem to think it.”

“Oh?” Óin reached over and took the mug from the Elf’s hand before giving him a quick but light shove on the shoulder. Surprised, Celebrimbor barely registered the shove before he fell back onto his backside. “You’re sayin’ tha’s a normal thing for me ta be able ta do then?”

Celebrimbor’s face flushed pink as he hurriedly pushed himself to his feet. He brushed the dirt off his trousers as he pulled a familiar Elven shield around him of distance that all Elf Lords seemed capable of. But Óin had seen a true master of Elven Lordship and Celebrimbor couldn’t even come close to the level of Thranduil. “That hardly proves anything. I was not expecting you to push me.”

“I’m not as ignorant ta Elves as you seem ta think, Master Celebrimbor,” Óin said, entirely unmoved. “Even Elves not expectin’ a push are not so easily overbalanced. Not if they’re well. Yer not well, Celebrimbor. Now tell me wha’s keepin’ ya from sleepin’?”

“It’s nothing.”

“We can do this all day, Master Elf,” Óin said as he handed the mug of tea back to his patient. “Bu’ I don’ think ya really want to.” Celebrimbor took the mug but still didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at the Dwarvish healer, instead, pretending to go back to his plant tending. So Óin decided to use a method he’d used before with Dwarves that didn’t want to admit to problems. He started just guessing. Either he’d get it right at some point, or Celebrimbor would get fed up with the wrong guesses and just tell him. Either way, he’d get to the bottom of it. “Is it one o’ yer old wounds botherin’ ya?”

The Elf looked annoyed. “My scars do not hurt me…” he grumbled. Óin hadn’t even known Elves could sound quite like that.

“Well, tha’s good,” Óin said, filing the bit of information away. Being free of actual physical pain could only be a good thing. Still, it didn’t answer the actual question. “Bed too soft?” he guessed. “Sometimes tha’ bothers the elderly.”

That got him quite the look. It was too bad that Narvi was in her workshop and unable to see it. “Well, if not too soft then per’aps too hard?” That one didn’t get any response at all. In fact, Celebrimbor made a concerted effort to ignore the healer by drinking his tea. “It’s too cramped? It’s no’ a tree…”

That last one at least earned him another look. “You do realize that all Eldar build actual beds no matter where their homes are located, don’t you?”

Óin shrugged and didn’t bother to answer more than that. Instead, he continued his guessing game. “The blankets are all scratchy an’ uncomfortable? Yer getting’ cold?”

“I’m an Elf,” Celebrimbor pointed out with some exasperation.

“Maybe yer gettin’ hungry in the middle o’ the night? Understandable since ya don’ eat enough at dinner. Yer a twig.”

“Are you just going to continued assuming what bothers me?”

“Yes,” Óin replied. “Unless ya wanna enlighten me.” The redhead just looked off to the side. Óin gave him a moment before shrugging. Though this time he decided to hazard a guess that may be more likely than petty discomforts. “Yer memories playin’ up with ya?” He had been watching carefully, so he easily saw how Celebrimbor’s shoulders tensed.

Óin sighed and nodded sadly. He knew that this would be a problem they’d have to deal with at some point, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy at all. He reached out and put a hand on the Elf Lord’s shoulder. Óin could feel the Elf’s muscles bunching up into knots from how tightly he was holding himself. “I understand… bu’ ignorin’ them isn’t goin’ ta help, ya know,” Óin said as kindly as he could. 

The tension in the Elf’s shoulders didn’t really ease any. If anything he got more tense under Óin’s large hand. “Celebrimbor. I’m here ta help ya. Talk ta me. Tell me wha’s been keepin’ ya from restin’,” he urged in his best healer’s tone.

“Will you tell Narvi?”

Óin was a little surprised at the question. “Only if I have ta. I don’ make a habit a talkin’ ‘bout the people I’m tryin’ ta help.” Still, Celebrimbor seemed to hesitate. He’d opened his mouth as if to say something but then faltered and closed it again. “Khel,” it felt a little odd to address the legendary Elf so casually, but Óin pressed on, “do ya really think Narvi’ll not notice them rings under yer eyes? Frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’ started pesterin’ ya ‘bout ‘em already.”

Judging by the way Celebrimbor looked away, Óin wondered if perhaps she _had_ already been pestering him about it. “It is a foolish thing,” Khel murmured finally.

“If it’s keepin’ ya from rest, it ain’t foolish,” Óin said firmly. “Wha’ is it?”

Celebrimbor seemed to struggle with himself for several minutes. He looked almost on the verge of panic. “Easy then,” Óin said, beginning to truly worry. Though he hadn’t thought this would be a nice conversation, he hadn’t expected this topic to trigger what seemed to be an honest to Mahal panic attack. “Jus’ breathe. In an’ out. Very simple. Wha'ever it is, I’m righ’ here an’ ya aren’t in any danger. Jus’ breathe, Khelebrimbor.”

Óin wished he knew Elvish. He thought that might get through better. “Khel!” he gave the Elf just a short shake and thankfully it seemed to draw the redhead’s attention fully to the present again. “Ya alright, lad?”

The Elf took a few slow breaths. “Yes… yes, I apologize.”

“Don’ be silly. Nothin’ ta apologize for,” Óin said. “Jus’ take a minute, huh?”

“It just… It should not be so hard,” Celebrimbor said softly, studying his tea in his hands. Óin gently pushed the mug up, indicating that the Elf should try some to calm his nerves again. Khel didn’t even put up a token protest. He took the sip, and it seemed to help. “I know it happened centuries ago and yet they will not leave…”

Óin grunted a little. “All memories are like tha’, though. ‘Specially the bad ones,” he folded his arms over his chest and pondered for a moment. “I got ate alive, ya know.”

The lack of preamble obviously confused the Elf. Celebrimbor blinked, “What?”

“Tha’s how I died,” Óin said. “We were retakin’ Khazad-dum-” He noticed the confused look on the Elf’s face had grown. “Ah, quite a while after yer time. Bu’ anyway, we were takin’ it back from the orcs. Got a good foothold too. Then this big beastie near the gate got me. It’s dead now, ‘course. Been dead fer centuries. Bu’ sometimes I still hear it an’ I don’ even got an Elf’s memory like ya do.”

“You got eaten alive…” Celebrimbor echoed, seemingly horrified.

“Now don’t ya go an’ get distracted. I had centuries ta get over it,” Óin said. “Still rears it’s ugly head now an’ then, bu’ I’m fine. _You_ aren’t.”

The legendary smith looked to the side and continued to cradle his mug in his crooked fingers. Óin waited as patiently as he was able. This was not something to rush. Finally, he was rewarded when Celebrimbor sighed. “What do you know of the Void?”

Óin blinked. “Nah much.”

Celebrimbor gave a somewhat twisted smile. “That, strangely enough, is a very apt description of it… not much. No light. No warmth. No air. Just darkness. Emptiness far removed from the light of the stars.” Óin remained quiet and just let the Elf continue to try and explain. “In that room at night… there is light. There are stars out of the window. It is warm, and there is air to breathe and yet… there is little to ground me there. When I am able to do so… I find myself back in Hollin… back on the night when my city fell. If it is not one, it is the other, and I cannot make it stop.”

Óin absorbed that for several minutes. “Ya’ve tried ta fix things, I take it?” Celebrimbor nodded. “What’ve ya tried, lad?”

Celebrimbor took a deep, somewhat shaky breath. “The hearth… keeps the Void at bay but brings forth Hollin. The curtains do not seem to help either. Singing is from Hollin, quiet the Void. Opening the window… Hollin again, yet closing it doesn’t seem to change things. I simply cannot get away from them.”

“So wha’ did it before?” Óin asked. The Elf blinked, apparently confused, as he lifted his head. “Ya didn’ have this problem before movin’ upstairs. So wha’ changed?”

Celebrimbor stared for a moment and then looked away. “I suppose it’s just different,” he said awkwardly.

“Uh huh,” Óin said, rather unconvinced but not going to press. He had never actually asked where Celebrimbor was staying before he got his room finished. He hadn’t figured it mattered, but now he thought that it truly did. And he had his suspicions. He cleared his throat after a minute of thought. “Well, I might have ta talk ta Narvi after all.”

“You said you wouldn’t!”

The Healer held up his hands. “Peace, Master Elf. I’m na gonna blurt out everythin’ ya said. I’m jus’ gonna say I want ya closer ta yer old rooms. Fer healin’ purposes,” Óin said. “Trust me ta handle Narvi.”

Celebrimbor looked less panicked but still worried. “I do not believe one can ‘handle’ Narvi,” he said.

Óin couldn’t quite help but snort in amusement. “Per’aps ya know us Dwarves better’n ya got credit fer. Bu’ healer’s word tha’ I won’t tell her anythin’ sensitive. Drink yer tea, Celebrimbor. It’ll make ya feel better.”

The Elf smiled a little down into his mug. “Where did you get this recipe from anyway?” he asked before taking a small sip.

“I’ve got my ways.”

“You asked an Elf?” Celebrimbor guessed.

“Tch, take all the mystery outta it,” Óin complained.

Khel managed a wane smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. “My apologies. I’ve never liked secrets… I always want to solve them. Narvi often drove me mad keeping her methods secret from me as long as she could…” His voice softened near the end and what little humor he had seemed to evaporate. Óin wasn’t sure why but he decided it was best to not press. He’d gotten quite a lot of information out of the Elf already. He couldn’t push too hard too soon. 

“Well, lemme go an’ find Narvi. You drink all a tha’ before comin’ in, ya hear me?” Óin ordered sternly. Celebrimbor nodded a little but continued to just study the liquid. Óin decided he would have to check in on the Elf to ensure he actually did drink it. But that was later. Right now he had to carefully construct a conversation with a certain Blacklock craftswoman.

He expected to not find Narvi until he got to the workshop but instead he spotted her still in the kitchen. She was eyeing something in a bowl skeptically. Óin came over and peered over her shoulder. It seemed to be some strange puddle of sticky something or another. “Wha’s that?”

“I think I forgot something,” was Narvi’s reply. She looked over a somewhat stained piece of parchment. “But I don’t know what…”

“Bread again?” Óin guessed. If it was, it certainly hadn’t done that rising thing that dough was supposed to do.

“I can measure, you know,” Narvi said. Óin backed up a step. 

“Course.”

“And follow directions,” she continued. “I’m not a simpleton.”

“Never said ya were.”

Narvi looked back at the parchment and scowled darkly. “This is not that complicated.” Óin thought it rather sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything. After several minutes, she sighed and dropped the paper to the table. “Maybe Dwarves just can’t bake…”

“Don’ let Bombur hear ya say tha’,” Óin warned with a snort. She made a face but didn’t argue that. It wasn’t as if she had been serious. Not mostly. “Narvi,” Óin began, instantly getting her full attention. “Before I got here… where was Khelebrimbor stayin’?”

“Why?” Narvi asked uneasily.

“’Cause it’s important,” Óin said. “I’m not judgin’ ya, I jus’ need ta know.”

Narvi seemed to think hard about her answer as she emptied out the failed soupy dough into the trash. She finished scraping the bowl out, and Óin was still waiting. Finally, she sighed and turned back around. “He was with me. But it wasn’t anything untoward.”

“Never said it was,” Óin pointed out. He decided to not mention how incredibly overly defensive the craftswoman was being. It would be best, for now, to focus more on his actual point rather than Narvi’s reaction to the very simple question. “It’s jus’ ya’ve gotta have noticed how tired he’s been since ya moved him.”

She pursed her lips tight and nodded. Of course, she’d noticed but she’d been hoping she was overreacting like she tended to do when Khel was concerned. “You think it’s because he had been staying with me?”

“I think it’s ‘cause he’s nah with ya anymore,” Óin corrected. Narvi looked confused and Óin sighed in exasperation. Not. This. _Again_. “Oh, come on, Narvi! By all accounts yer his best friend. Obviously, ya bein’ nearby is a comfort ta him.”

“You’re sure?” Narvi asked.

“Well, how ‘bout ya check on him tonigh' an’ see fer yerself,” Óin challenged. 

Narvi shifted uneasily for a moment before nodding. She had been doing her best to not check on Khel constantly. She figured he’d never get better if she were hovering over him all the time. But now she couldn’t help but worry. Had she been missing something vitally important in her attempt to not smother Khel under her concern?

Óin nodded as well. “Good. Now, I’m gonna go make sure the lad’s actually drinkin’ tha’ tea an’ not jus’ lookin’ at it.” With that, Óin left Narvi to her own devices, confident that the situation would straighten itself out later on that night. He rather doubted that Narvi would allow Celebrimbor to stay up there alone if he was really having so much trouble.

The day seemed to dilly dally at its own pace, which was incredibly frustrating to be entirely honest. Narvi wasn’t all that comfortable waiting to see what Óin was talking about. She tried again to bake some bread and again the stupid stuff didn’t even rise (which really Narvi had to admit was quite fascinating to watch that one time she'd managed to make it happen). So, she turned her attention from working on bread to forging a new hair ornament. Not for any particular reason other than she had an exquisite idea for one that would look stunning in Khel’s hair. Plus, it was far more satisfying making jewelry than it was trying to bake.

Óin was kind enough to make dinner. He said cooking every once and a while was the least he could do to help out. Narvi was glad for it. Not only because she didn’t have to but because he was admittedly somewhat better at it. 

Khel had been very quiet over dinner, which worried Narvi immensely. But he ate with only the usual amount of prodding and Narvi had even managed to wring a smile or two out of the Elf over the course of the meal. So, she tried her best to not worry too much. He was more than entitled to his off days. Especially if what Óin said was true.

After dinner, mostly to distract herself, Narvi went back to the forge. By the time she had finished twisting silver into intricate knots and had forged hundreds of tiny links for decorative chains of silver closer to threads than real chains, it was the very middle of the night. She was fairly confident that Khel would have gone up to bed so long after dinner so washed her hands of the soot and grime of forging before heading up the tower.

She made her way up the stairs feeling unusually nervous. She shouldn’t be. It wasn’t like she was doing anything more than checking in on her friend who hadn’t been sleeping well. Still, she was quiet as she opened the door to Khel’s room and peered inside. At first, she thought that everything was entirely normal. Celebrimbor was lying in bed as still as ever with his hair a mess across the pillows. But, remembering what Óin said, Narvi stayed to make absolutely certain.

It didn’t take very long for Narvi to see that there was, in fact, a problem. Elves didn’t move when they were in Reverie. They just laid there and stared at nothing. But that wasn’t what Khel was currently doing. He shifted, seemingly uncomfortable, and almost seemed to be murmuring something Narvi couldn’t hear. A moment later, he rolled over entirely and settled. But he didn’t stay settled. It only took about five more minutes of watching before Khel started shifting uneasily again. She had never seen him so unsettled. 

Before she could come to a decision on what to do, he seemed to wake up. At least, if the harsh jerk and sharp inhale was anything to go by. He didn’t move for a moment but then lifted a hand to push a shaky hand through his hair. Narvi quickly decided that enough was enough. She moved into his room. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the movement. “Easy, Khel. It’s only me,” Narvi said softly as she went to climb onto the bed beside him.

“Narvi…”

“Hush now,” Narvi ordered as she wrapped an arm around his thin waist and laid down beside the Elf. “Rest. We can talk about it later.”

Celebrimbor was still stiff where he was lying but then slowly relaxed against her. “I’m sorry, Narvi…” 

The craftswoman reached up and tugged at a tangled clump of his hair. “What have I said about apologizing?” she asked rhetorically. “This isn’t your fault. Just get some rest. You haven’t been getting enough. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

There were several minutes of silence as Narvi absently ran her fingers through his hair. “Did Óin speak to you?” Khel asked softly.

“What part of ‘hush’ is so hard for you to comprehend?”

“ _Narvi_.”

She sighed. “He mentioned it might have been a problem that you were up here, yes,” she said. “But that was about it. Why?” He shook his head a little and settled. Narvi wondered but decided to not press matters. She wanted her friend to actually get some rest tonight and pestering him wouldn’t help that. Convinced he was finally in Reverie, or at least near it, Narvi closed her own eyes. “Goodnight, Khel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Oin. At least it's not his own Nephew this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but you do not KNOW how much I needed this!
> 
> Oh, and Bar... somehow in my head became a non-binary dwarf. *shrugs* No idea why, but now they are. So there. Also, a return of Droy! he's my throwaway dwarf that Narvi beat up in Rules of the Halls. Here he's not getting on Narvi's nerves though.
> 
> Also also... STEAMPUNK!CELEVI I NEED IT!!! OMG! Someone write me Khel and Narvi making steampunk stuff! PLEEEEAASSEE?! I don't have time to do it myself. Think of all the pretty things they could make! It would be glorious~!

It didn’t take very long after Celebrimbor to move back downstairs for him to visibly appear better rested. Narvi still felt a little awkward about the arrangement but also couldn’t just allow him to be alone upstairs where he would be obviously struggling to get rest. So, she decided that the best compromise for the current situation was to just actually put some effort into her own bedroom to make it a bit more comfortable for someone so tall. She was getting a _little_ annoyed at making beds but not annoyed enough to actually consider for a second not doing so. Besides, it was probably strange that she was still using a few steps up from a cot that one might take travelling. 

And she could make a proper Dwarven design this time. She found that polished steel looked quite fetching contrasting with the dark wood of the nearby forest and used it in several places. Both to cap the angular posts of the bed and give more structural support. Of course, she still couldn’t quite resist the urge to show off her newly acquired carving skills. The wood grain wasn’t half bad really when she angled the pieces to meet in diamond shapes and other such angles. She still wasn’t able to pull off some of the things that Khel had managed (nor could she do it as quickly), but she could get some really very nice detail if she did say so herself. She did agonize a little over some of the features of the design but when Khel saw it she was glad that she’d decided on what she had. He’d seemed so very unnecessarily touched at the silver inlay of the Star of Feanor in the headboard. She’d started putting that in before she’d even really thought about it. She was just so used to seeing it from the thousands of times they’d redesigned the Gates of Khazad-dûm. It had just appeared. She’d thought hard about whether to keep it there but in the end she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to remove it. It just looked _so good_ set there against that dark wood. So that made it very good that Khel seemed pleased with her whim that she probably shouldn’t have done.

With (another) bed large enough for an Elf, Narvi was a bit more comfortable that Khel was down in her room with her. It was easier to keep an eye on him that way anyhow. He wasn’t all scrunched up on her old cot anymore and could actual get through the whole night without waking himself. Plus, Narvi found it much easier to get him awake and moving in the morning if she was right there to poke and prod him constantly.

As the weeks went on, Narvi became more and more glad that she’d enlisted Óin’s help. At some point, Narvi’s location had been found out and Dwarves were beginning to come to give her commissions. She had half a mind to send them packing. She had other things to worry about than their silly little projects. But… then again, some of them truly did have some interesting ideas that got her fingers itching. So, she took a few of them. It was a nice break from furniture, which, while she was getting quite good at making, could become tedious. But there were things she never agreed to make. Doors or gates (unless it was purely mechanical in nature and therefore she didn’t need Khel’s help), anything she had to actually leave home for, and absolutely no rings. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t made the Rings of Power or that Khel never came into her workshop and thus wouldn’t even know if she was making them, she simply couldn’t risk it and honestly didn’t feel right doing it after all that had happened.

Perhaps Narvi shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was when she started getting social calls from various Dwarves, not in the least of which were Bar and Telchar. They both seemed quite interested in her continued construction and if they found it odd that she had more than a few Elvish details and oversized (for a Dwarf) furniture they knew far better than to mention it. Celebrimbor was, of course, entirely absent. Narvi had only made a short attempt to try and get Khel social with her other friends. But he still seemed tired and very reluctant to approach the workshop, so she was force to leave him be. Besides, if she were to be forced to spend time with others, Bar and Telchar were probably some of her favorites.

The three Dwarvish craftsmen spent a good deal of time in Narvi’s forge fiddling with countless things and spending time just _making_. It was while they were in the workshop that Telchar seemed to finally gather up the nerves (or perhaps just the impatience) to bring up the obvious. “Your forge is big enough for five Dwarves,” he said as he examined the piece of metal in the middle of being shaped. Telchar and Bar had noticed it instantly. The forge was the usual height of Dwarven construction and yet on one side had a more elevated layer just begging to be used. And to be used by someone a bit taller than a Dwarf.

Narvi grunted a little but didn’t go out of her way to explain that she’d originally made the room large enough for her and Khel to share and she’d anticipated it being bustling. “I like space,” she said after several long minutes. She wasn’t really trying to fool them per say. She trusted them and didn’t honestly care what they thought about her original intentions. They’d all three of them worked side by side for centuries in the after life. They knew each other well enough by now.

“He’s not better then?” Bar asked with little preamble. Bar didn’t speak much but when they did it rarely came with much tact. Not that Narvi or Telchar cared overmuch. They weren’t the most tactful either although not nearly as bad as Bar.

The Blacklock craftswoman looked over at the other two. She hadn’t really thought they wouldn’t take notice of her obvious design and construction choices but she still hadn’t quite been ready for the question. Pretending she didn’t know what Bar was talking about didn’t occur to her. Instead she just shook her head a bit. “He’s been through a lot.”

There was a long silence. “He’ll get better,” Telchar said. He wasn’t even remotely unsure of that. “He’s got you here looking after him.”

“He doesn’t deserve what happened to him,” Narvi said.

“Nobody said he did,” Telchar pointed out as he put some calipers down on a worktable. Since the pair were here, helping Narvi with a few minor projects had just seemed natural. “You’ve told us all about how he was like.” Narvi blinked in surprise. She had? She couldn’t really recall talking about Khel all that much. Telchar let out a single laugh. “What’s with that look?”

“Don’t think she realizes she rambles,” Bar said in their usual low rumble.

Narvi frowned. “I don’t ramble.”

Telchar raised one thick eyebrow. “Narvi,” he began, not unkindly but definitely amused, “of the three of us, _you_ are the chatter-box.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that,” Narvi said, sounding a little uneasy.

Bar and Telchar exchanged a look. “It is relative,” Telchar pointed out, still sounding amused. “I mean… _I_ chatter compared to Bar.” Bar frowned a little at that. Telchar patted the other Dwarf on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bar. Nobody minds that you don’t talk much. It’s part of your charm.”

Narvi rolled her eyes some and went back to her work. “You’re both ridiculous,” she said.

“Not as bad as your Elf, surely,” Telchar commented.

“He’s not _my_ Elf, but no. Not as bad as Khel,” Narvi agreed almost absently.

Telchar and Bar exchanged another wordless glance. “You know,” Telchar began, leaning on Narvi’s worktable with carefully planned nonchalance. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention your family, Narvi. Not interested in meeting up with them again?”

“I was an oddity in my family,” Narvi said absently as she measured out how much of a gap she’d need to fit a gear into her newest contraption. “None of them were craftsmen.”

“Surely that doesn’t mean they aren’t proud of you,” Telchar pressed.

Narvi shrugged. “I guess. Not much to talk to them about, though. What’s with the sudden questions about my family, anyway?” It wasn’t as if she’d had a bad relationship with her family, they just weren’t terribly close. There had always been a strange gap since they couldn’t really understand the level that Narvi functioned on. Oh, they tried. Narvi knew that. But she had little patience for people that couldn’t keep up with her and that led to a few… hurt feelings. It had only gotten worse as she got older and even more skilled. She occasionally wrote to them but the letters were always short and to the point. Narvi wasn’t even sure if they knew where she lived. Not that she really cared one way or the other. If they really needed to know, Narvi was sure they would find her.

“It just occurred to us that it was a little odd you’ll talk about pretty much anything but they never came up,” Telchar said lightly. Really, what he meant was that it was odd for Narvi to ramble about her Elf friend and barely even mention her family. Telchar wasn’t even sure that Narvi had mentioned her parent’s names. 

The craftswoman shrugged without looking up from what she was doing. “We write,” she said simply, of course completely missing the more subtle implications of Telchar’s comment. “It works.”

Her friends just stared for a moment before deciding it was best to leave it alone. If a Dwarf wanted to remain oblivious, they would damn well do it. It was pointless to try and change that. Haban would most likely press harder about it, but neither Telchar or Bar were going to do so. Bar shook their head a little as Telchar straightened. “Sad,” Bar commented under their breath. Telchar nodded in agreement but Narvi had already put the conversation far from her mind. She had work to do after all.

* * *

Pickaxes clinked against rock and chisels carefully chipped flakes of boulders away. Songs rose from the depths in an earth shaking timbre. Pulleys and ropes squeaked as piles of stones were lifted up and out of the shafts. They were fearlessly digging deeper and deeper into the dark. Here in this world reborn they had been promised there would be no more Balrogs or dragons to bring disaster upon them. No, they could follow the precious metals further down and build to their hearts content.

At the very bottom of the shaft, surveyors kept their torches and candles close as they studied the walls and floors for fault lines. It was best if they knew precisely how the rock was formed so that they didn’t make any amateurish mistakes. Their hob nailed boots were loud against the raw rock they carefully picked their way across. Occasionally, they would call back and forth in Khuzdul to inform of anything they found and to ensure that they didn’t lose any of their numbers. Though they could see well in the dark and had torches and centuries of experience, going through unmapped caves was always a dangerous prospect.

As they slowly moved through the cave system, they slowly split apart further and further until they could only just hear each other even with the echoes of the caves. Droy wasn’t often on survey teams but he’d been branching out from mining lately and he was finding he really enjoyed it. He put a careful hand on the rock beside him as he stepped around a small underground trickle of water. It was seeping through from the ceiling and Droy rather hoped that wouldn’t cause any problems with their plans. But it probably would. Either there was an underground river or pool somewhere up above or the rock had enough of a fault that water could get in from the surface. Both would be severe problems, although the engineers might be able to work with it.

His job wasn’t to plan out things. Just to note all the little quirks of the rock and the way the cave system had formed. The tunnel he was in suddenly dropped off and Droy carefully set an anchor into the stone. After ensuring that it was firm enough to carry his weight he started down as far as he could.

Luckily, it wasn’t too far of a drop. He nodded a little as he brushed himself off. Such a little drop would definitely be workable, he thought. Droy raised his torch again and peered into the darkness. He would have to turn back soon. He was getting too far away from the others. Still, perhaps he should look at this last chamber. He started forward carefully.

The steel toe of his boot hit something and Droy stopped dead as he heard the unmistakable sound of metal skittering over stone. That was not something he should be hearing way down here where nobody had been before. Very curious now, Droy lifted his torch higher and started looking for any sign of what he’d kicked. It took several moments for him to finally spot it. But then the fire light fell over a small shine of gold.

Droy slowly moved forward and then bent down to pick up the icy cold piece of metal. His eyes widened in surprise at the emerald set within the metal that was so dark as to be nearly black. Ancient runes he couldn’t read framed the diamond cut emerald. An icy wind suddenly rushed from nowhere and cut through his entire body. He jumped and his fingers went numb and he dropped everything. The ring hit the ground with a thud far too loud for the size of it. Droy watched as it spun on its side while the torch sputtered and then died. For absolutely no reason Droy could fathom sudden fear ripped through him and he spun around to race back to the rope. Leaving the little ring lying there in the dark…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo~ Ominous. I told you I had plot developing...


	14. Chapter 14

Narvi was beyond glad to see that Celebrimbor was slowly recovering. Óin was cautiously optimistic about the progress that the Elf Lord had made. It had taken many long, painful talks with his patient to begin making that progress, but it was worth it. The first sign of significant progress came when, quite out of nowhere, Celebrimbor took a spoon from Narvi’s hand one morning. “ _Mellon_ , if you do not stir it more it will all burn,” he said lightly.

“Khel! I’m not going to burn it,” Narvi protested.

“You burned it the last three times you made it,” Celebrimbor said with a smile as he carefully nudged her out of the way with one hip and started to stir the shreds of potatoe that were sizzling away in the heavy iron pan.

Narvi harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest. “And you think you can do better, is that it?”

“I do have more practice,” Khel replied easily. “And patience. You tend to get distracted halfway through.”

Narvi scowled and would have argued further when Óin caught her eye. He gave a slight shake of his head behind Celebrimbor’s back. It still took a few brief seconds to realize just what Óin was getting at. Khel was usually willing to just choke down whatever the Dwarves gave him. Him showing some preference now was a good thing and she shouldn’t discourage it. “Fine. You think you’re so much better, you can just cook from now on,” she said casually.

There was a pause and Narvi glanced up to see Khel looking down at her with an unreadable expression. “Would that please you?”

The question, for some reason, made Narvi shift uncomfortably. It was a perfectly benign question so she wasn’t sure why she felt a touch embarrassed to be asked it. Maybe it was just because of _how_ he had asked it. He didn’t often say anything in that particular tone, so it had caught her off guard a little. That was all. “Well, it’d be less for me to do,” she replied. “Besides… you are probably better at it. An old thing like you has to have picked up a few tricks,” Narvi added as if it weren’t at all a big deal.

Celebrimbor laughed just a little and turned back to his cooking. Narvi watched for a few minutes to ensure that her friend really was alright and then went over to the table. Óin gave her a little grin and saluted with his drink from his own seat. She had a feeling that they’d be discussing this later, when there weren’t Elvish ears around to actually hear what it was they were talking about. 

The two Dwarves continued to keep a close watch on Khel as he took over cooking breakfast. Narvi, in particular, had to fight the urge to get up and help or speak up when she thought he might have forgotten things. She nearly jumped to her feet when she thought for a moment that Khel was going to grab the pan without any sort of protection from the heat. He wasn’t a Dwarf and as such had no Fire Touch in the least. But she was relieved beyond measure when Khel didn’t do something foolish like grabbing the hot metal with his bare hand. She should have known better, but she couldn’t help but worry over him. It had been a while since he’d cooked or been around hot metal after all.

Sooner than Narvi expected, Khel was putting their food on the table between the Dwarves. “Already?” Narvi asked. “You’re sure it’s done?”

Celebrimbor laughed again and looked over at her fondly. “You always overcook everything,” he said with a smile. “It is as if you’re trying to melt it all. Most food does not, in fact, melt, _Mellon_.”

She scowled at him. “I do not try to melt food,” she replied.

“Of course not,” he said as he took his own seat beside her. “But you still overcook it.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about getting sick from undercooked food,” she said as she grabbed her fork.

“No, that would be rather difficult when one burns most everything,” Khel replied. Narvi tried to glare at him but at the sight of his little smile she just couldn’t continue to be offended. 

Instead she gave a huge sigh. “Fine fine. I’m a bad cook,” she admitted for his sake. She was glad when his smile widened. “That just means it’s your job from now on,” she added.

He didn’t seem upset by that and just gave her another smile before starting on his breakfast. Narvi studied him for a moment before turning to her own plate. She rather hated to admit that Khel’s version of the meal was significantly better than her own attempts. She hadn’t really thought she was that bad at cooking but maybe she could concede that Celebrimbor had known what he was talking about. The potatoes were still crispy but for once didn’t taste like coal dust had been caked onto them.

And so, Celebrimbor took over the cooking duties in the house. Óin still helped on occasion but the Elf seemed content to do it all himself. When the healer asked though, Khel said it wasn’t so much he liked cooking but that he worried Narvi would eventually kill them all with her attempts. Óin thought it best to not mention that to the craftswoman, especially since he rather agreed with the Elf. Food tended to lose most nutritional value after it was turned to coal. 

Narvi still attempted the bread on occasion and still failed miserably to make it. She just couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Surely bread making was not this hard. People did it all the time. And yet she couldn’t make a single bloody loaf of the stuff. She supposed she could ask someone but she had always been rather resistant to that idea. She preferred figuring things out herself.

Of course, bread wasn’t the only thing she had to figure out. Khel was acting off. Well, he’d been acting off since he’d been brought back. She realized that. But now he was acting differently from even that. No matter how long it took for Narvi to return from the forge each night, she noticed that Khel would wait for her. At first, she hadn’t thought anything of it, but it only took a week of him lingering with books until she climbed in bed for her to realize what he was doing. She just wasn’t sure why he was doing it.

Before they had tried moving him upstairs, Khel hadn’t waited up for her. Or at the very least he hadn’t been so obvious about it. Narvi couldn’t say for certain that he hadn’t been. It bothered her a little because she didn’t always go to bed at decent times, despite her best intentions. She didn’t want him waiting up until the wee hours for her and she said as much one night after climbing into bed.

“I wish to wait for you,” Khel replied as he shifted so that he could wrap his slender arms around her. “Surely it is nothing to worry about?”

“You just need sleep and I don’t always come to bed right away,” Narvi replied as she shifted to lie on her side like she usually did.

Celebrimbor hummed and moved a bit closer. “I don’t mind.”

“Well I do,” she said firmly.

His face was near practically resting against her shoulder so she could feel his smile through her nightshirt. “You are sweet to worry. But you needn’t. I simply rest better with you beside me.”

She frowned. “Well, if you’re too tired come and get me. I don’t want you staying up when you shouldn’t be,” she ordered. 

“If that pleases you,” he murmured, already sounding halfway to Reverie. 

Narvi frowned a little. That was the second time he’d said something like that. “Why so concerned with what I want all of a sudden, _’arstunz_?”

“I’ve always been concerned with that…”

Narvi sighed a little and took hold of Khel’s hand. “Well, you shouldn’t worry about me so much. I’m fine so long as you’re getting better,” she told him truthfully. That was all she was concerned with. “You just worry about you.”

“You say that and yet you do not worry about yourself,” Khel murmured. “Who else will if not for me?”

“I can take care of myself.”

There was a long pause where Narvi was all but certain that Khel had drifted off finally. “So stubborn, _Meleth nin_ …”

Narvi froze. “Khel?”

She waited with baited breath for some sort of reply, but this time it seemed Celebrimbor had finally drifted fully into Reverie. Narvi had to force herself to take her next breath. She couldn’t have heard that right. Or, Khel had been saying nonsense from how tired he was. Yes, that made sense. There was no way the Elf could have actually said what she thought he had. Or, perhaps he thought he was talking to someone else. It was possible, wasn’t it? Elves relived memories when they were Reverie. He could have easily been thinking of some Elf maid he once knew in Hollin or something. Yes, that made sense too. There were plenty of explanations.

Slowly, Narvi pushed herself half up to look over at the slumbering Elf beside her. He looked peaceful and relaxed. Definitely fully ‘asleep’ as Elves did it. Narvi stared for several moments before lying back down. She tried again to dismiss what she’d just heard. There was just no way he'd actually been saying that to her. Narvi was certain of it. She didn’t end up getting much sleep at all that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, my friends, is called PROGRESS. And denial. Lots of denial.
> 
> Oh and 'arstunz is my attempt to come up with a Khuzdul word for firefly... because that's what Khel is. He's a pretty little firefly that makes Narvi go 'awww'. The word itself is a mixture of one word for fire and the word for bug according to the Khuzdul scholar.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to PaperTigress for becoming my beta! We're going through the earlier chapters but that'll take time to work out since there are 14 of them. But also this one! Which is new! And now posted! Enjoy! And go shower love on PaperTigress for helping me!

Celebrimbor continued cooking their meals regularly. He never said anything particularly affectionate and after a few days, Narvi stopped listening for it. Having the Noldor Elf cooking was even more of a boon than Narvi initially thought it would be. Not only was the food of much better quality but also Celebrimbor ate a little more when he made the meals himself. Still not as much as Óin or Narvi would want, but any amount more was a celebrated improvement. Narvi noticed a distinctly more Elvish flair to the food instantly. Most of the dishes were flavored more mildly than Dwarrow cooking tended to be and there was less red meat. Narvi found she didn't mind the change all that much. Many centuries had passed with only her own attempts at Blacklock cooking. The variation in tastes was almost refreshing and strangely nostalgic. Back when they were alive the first time, Narvi often had Elvish cooking since she visited Celebrimbor’s city frequently. She had grown as used to the taste as she had her own people’s cooking.

Just shy of three weeks after the Celebrimbor took over the cooking, Narvi was hunched over her workbench with dozens of lights placed around to ensure the area was well lit. She was carefully setting tiny diamonds into the handle of a comb made out of silver and ivory. A knock at the door almost made Narvi lose her grip on the pin-head sized gem, but she managed to keep it secure within the tweezers she was using with pure skill. "What?" she called without looking up. She didn't want to risk dropping the diamond and never finding it again.

The door to the workshop opened. She wasn't surprised at the heavy tread of Dwarven boots that she heard against the stone, but she was still disappointed. "Narvi, Glorfindel is here... seems upset," Óin said.

Narvi frowned and dropped the gem into the small box of similarly sized ones near her elbow. She turned to look at the grey-haired healer. "Upset?" she echoed. She couldn't honestly imagine Glorfindel as 'upset' in any sense of the word. Glorfindel was too relaxed and carefree.

Óin nodded. "Yes, upset. I barely opened the door 'fore he was sweepin' in askin' where ya were. I invited him in for some tea but he wouldn’ budge. Said he’d wait for ya there in the entry." Óin looked mildly disturbed by that revelation. Normally, Glorfindel seemed to be in absolutely no hurry whatsoever. 

"He’s waiting for me?"

"I think he might have even been 'bout ta start pacin'," Óin added.

Narvi quickly put her work down and hopped to her feet. "Where's Khel?"

"Upstairs, I think. Haven't seen 'im since lunch," Óin supplied.

Narvi was glad for that and hoped that Celebrimbor stayed up in his conservatory. Anything that could cause Glorfindel to come to their home and start pacing was likely to be something unpleasant that Celebrimbor needed no part in. Glorfindel was indeed pacing in the middle of the entry hall when Narvi and Óin got there. The Elf stopped instantly and turned to face the two Dwarves. “Narvi.”

"What is it, Glorfindel?"

"Where is Celebrimbor?" Glorfindel asked sounding anxious.

Narvi's protective instincts flared up instantly. She did _not_ like that her question went unanswered and that the first thing Glorfindel did was ask for her recovering friend. "Why?"

"We need his expertise."

"His expertise?" Narvi echoed. "He won't even draft the layout of his own rooms since he came back. I doubt he will be willing to help. Now, what is this about?"

Glorfindel seemed to hesitate for just a moment, "The Dwarves excavating Khazad-Masmur found something." When he paused there, Narvi gestured impatiently. "It was a Ring of a bygone age, Narvi." Narvi couldn't help but stiffen at the word 'Ring', on Glorfindel's tongue it held an odd and ominous tone.

"That's impossible," Narvi snapped.

"The Dwarf that found it was quite specific," Glorfindel explained gently. "It had runes he could not read carved into the band and a gemstone set in the middle."

"Elrond said that all the Rings of Power were destroyed," Narvi insisted. "That since they were bound to the One, the only Rings that survived were the Three Elven ones and even they aren't as strong as they used to be."

Glorfindel held up a hand Glorfindel held up a hand in request that Narvi listen and continued, "So we thought and it still might be. Celebrimbor could identify it for certain for us."

Narvi scowled darkly. This was the very last thing that Celebrimbor needed. She was not going to allow Glorfindel to go asking Celebrimbor questions about the Rings of Power just because some idiot thought he stumbled across one. Besides, the entirety of Arda Remade was said to be devoid of darkness. The Rings had no place here. "Take this supposed Ring to Galadriel or someone, they should be able to tell what it is," she suggested. The Ring on Galadriel’s own hand should easily recognize one of its brethren.

"The Ring is missing again," Glorfindel said. "When the Dwarves returned to where it was found, it had disappeared."

"What do you mean 'returned to'?"

Glorfindel sighed. "The Dwarf got frightened and dropped everything before running back to the others. When they returned to investigate more thoroughly, the ring was gone. At first we dismissed it as well but the miner insisted and even drew for us an image of what he saw. We have tried to ask Celebrimbor's apprentices and smiths that were working with him when the Rings were made, but none were able to say for certain if the drawing of the Ring that was found matched one of those that were made," he explained. "I wouldn't have come here with such a question if it weren't important, Narvi. I don't want to bring this up with Celebrimbor either, believe me."

"Glorfindel, you _can't_ bring up those horrible things with him," Narvi stated as firmly as she possibly could. There was just no way that she would allow such a conversation.

"Narvi. This is too important to ignore," Glorfindel said. "He's the only one who has seen every ring in detail. He helped design, forge, and even held each and every one of them."

_Aside from **Him** ,_ Narvi's mind supplied very unhelpfully and unwelcomely.

Narvi clenched her fists tightly by her side and resisted the urge to punch the Elf. That would at least knock some sense into that pretty golden head of Glorfindel's. "He _can't_ help you, Glorfindel. His time in the Void damaged his memories."

Glorfindel was quiet and Narvi steadfastly ignored the sad look on his face. She didn't truly want to be _guilting_ Glorfindel into leaving but if such a method worked then she wouldn't complain either. "Do you really think that he would forget _this_ of all things, Narvi? Even if he wanted to?" Glorfindel murmured. "I think we both know he remembers every rune carved into each Ring and every facet of every gem set in the bands. How could he not?"

"No, Glorfindel," Narvi repeated with finality.

“Narvi-”

“No.”

“We only need-”

“I said no.”

“I won’t-”

“No!”

"Narvi, I understand, but this is too important to just ignore!" Glorfindel argued in frustration. "If this ring truly is one of the unaccounted for Rings then they are most likely still dangerous. We need to know for certain if such a thing escaped destruction! All we need is for him to look at the drawing and tell us if he recognizes it!"

Narvi was utterly unmoved. "I won't allow Khelebrimbor to be sacrificed. Not again."

Glorfindel was silent for several moments as he studied the Dwarven craftswoman glaring at him. "I truly cannot convince you, can I?"

"No."

Glorfindel nodded a little. "You know I would do nothing to intentionally harm him, don't you?"

Narvi attempted to relax a little but was mostly unsuccessful. "I know you mean well, Glor. But this would be just too much for Khel."

Óin glanced between the two uneasily. He wasn't at all certain how this would end, but he couldn't imagine the situation could be resolved without someone getting angry or hurt unless one of them backed down. Óin was willing to bet that Glorfindel would be the one to fold first in an attempt to keep things from becoming worse, but it was hard to be certain. Glorfindel could consider this important enough to insist on seeing Celebrimbor, which would lead Narvi to physical action.

“It’s just a picture, Narvi.”

“I don’t care. It’s not happening.”

Several more minutes passed where nothing happened. Glorfindel continued to stare down at Narvi with little expression visible on his face. The golden-haired warrior sighed heavily but did not look terribly surprised. "I told them you would be difficult. Very well, Narvi. I will try to find some other solution. But if I cannot, I will have to return."

Narvi nodded and watched silently as Glorfindel left. When the door closed again Narvi let out a huff and glared at the innocent door. "Unbelievable. Can you believe he actually wanted to ask Khel about that?"

"Maybe ya shoulda let 'im," Óin mused aloud.

Narvi whipped around to glower at Óin. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Maybe ya shoulda let 'im," Óin repeated with an admirable lack of concern.

Narvi felt burning outrage rise up instantly. "Are you out of your mind? Why would you even say that? You know how much Khel's been struggling with all this!" He had struggled so hard to reach the point he was at now. Narvi would not help them to drag him back down to where he was barely getting out of bed in the morning. She couldn't watch him become that shell again. She just couldn't. Narvi knew that if this topic was brought to Celebrimbor that all of his progress would be burnt to ashes.

"Narvi, jus' think 'bout it for a minute," Óin said. "Khelebrimbor's never had any closure 'bout this. It's all been over an' done with for centuries for us; but, when last he was in the world, they had jus' been made, an' he'd been tortured over 'em. Helpin' him deal with this now might end up helpin' him with what happened back then as well," Óin reasoned. 

"You cannot honestly think it'd be good for him to be faced with what broke him before can you?"

"Narvi, perhaps he'd _want_ ta face it again," Óin said. Narvi stared for a solid minute at the Dwarven healer. "Think about it, Narvi. Accordin' ta what ya've told me, he fought that evil an' was killed in the process. An' then continued ta fight after that. Does that really sound like someone who'd want ta hide away an' let ya dictate if he can face it again or not?"

"He's not in any condition to!" Narvi argued. "Or do you think someone, who can't even bring himself to walk into my workshop, can really face this sort trauma all over again?"

Óin sighed. "I'm jus' sayin' that it isn't actually your choice ta make," the healer said. "I understand ya want ta protect him. I do too. But allowin' him ta stay locked away from the world isn't so healthy either."

"This isn't like a Dwarf suffering after a battle, Óin," Narvi nearly growled. Dwarves usually got tougher under repeated beatings and traumas, but Celebrimbor was most definitely not like that.

"No. It's not," Óin agreed. "Bu' I don' think he's as frail as ya seem ta think he is either. He's been managin' well so far."

Narvi felt like tearing her beard out in frustration. How could Óin, who was watching Celebrimbor struggling, even think to suggest something so ridiculous? "He's managing because we're here making him."

"He took over the cookin' on his own," Óin pointed out. "We didn't make him do that. Trust him ta know his own limits."

"And if it breaks him all over again?"

"Sometimes ya have ta rebreak things ta have them set back in the right position," Óin reasoned. "Just… ya should talk ta 'im 'bout it, Narvi."

Narvi wasn't sure that she wanted to 'think about it.' Óin didn't give her much chance to respond though and disappeared down the stairs leading to the rest of the house. She glared at the stairs he’d disappeared down for several minutes before huffing in frustration and going back to her workshop. The utter nerve of Glorfindel was infuriating. She could barely believe he would think to ask for such a thing.

Narvi tried to return to the comb she had been making but found that her hand was shaking too much from her anger. So, instead, she turned her attention to something that she could focus that through. With only a few hard pushes at the bellows, the coals flared back to life so that she could heat metal again. She didn’t feel like putting much thought into her work so she decided that beating some metal flat to form bands she could turn into everything from hinges to braces would be perfect.

With something to focus on other than Glorfindel’s distressing request, Narvi spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening working. She ignored Óin when he came to try and pry her from her work. The craftswoman felt only mildly bad for skipping dinner, but she didn’t think she could sit there and not blow up in front of Celebrimbor. Since she didn’t want Celebrimbor to know such a request had even been made, Narvi figured that avoidance of the topic was best.

Narvi was perfectly happy with her solution to the issue until she returned to her room near dawn and found Celebrimbor in bed with an open book on his chest, looking very much as if he’d fallen into Reverie without intending to do so. Narvi also spotted a plate of cold food on her bedside table. Despite trying her best to not work through meals, Narvi still did so on occasion and Celebrimbor had developed the habit of leaving food out for her to eat when she finally came to bed. Since she often didn’t bother going to the kitchen or dining area when she was up that late, he’d also began to put it there on her side table. Guilt pricked at her unpleasantly as she picked up her dinner. She hadn’t meant to make Celebrimbor worry after her. He deserved worrying over. She didn't, not by a long shot. Simple as that.

The meal on the dish looked perfectly delicious, if a little dried out around the edges, but Narvi found she had no appetite to speak of. She quickly took her leftover dinner to the kitchen where she could eat it. Her lack of appetite persisted however and she only managed to pick at the food for a little while before giving up and scraping the remainders into the trash. Right now, she was tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

Celebrimbor hadn’t moved a muscle in the time that she had been gone, not that she’d really expected anything else. Seeing he was still asleep, Narvi went to the bathroom to quickly rinse the sweat and dirt from her work off and pulled on some clean nightclothes. When she returned, still slightly damp but no longer smelling from her work she turned out the lanterns in the bedroom. As she gently took the book away from Celebrimbor, she heard him wake up. “Narvi?”

“Yeah, who else would it be?” she asked as she smoothed out the slightly wrinkled pages of the book and then put it to the side. “I told you to come get me if I was working too late,” Narvi said even as she pulled the blankets back and climbed into the large bed beside him.

“Mm, I didn’t want to disturb you. I’m sure whatever you were working on was important,” Celebrimbor said as he shifted his position slightly to allow for her to join him in the space directly in front of him.

Narvi felt her guilt spike again. What she had been working on wasn’t at all that important. Not really. She had been working entirely to keep herself distracted. She sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It wasn’t so much that it was important… it was a distraction,” Narvi admitted as she felt him tuck his head down against the top of her head.

“Distraction?” he echoed. “Did it have something to do with what Glorfindel came here for?”

Narvi couldn’t help but give a start. “What do you know about that?” She hadn’t thought that Óin would go against her wishes and speak to Celebrimbor about such things but then again she hadn’t explicitly said not to do so.

“Just that he was here. I can see people approach from the top of the tower,” Celebrimbor informed. “What did he want this time?”

“Nothing important.”

“Whatever it was sent you into your workshop all afternoon,” Celebrimbor pointed out. “Seems rather important to me,” he said.

Narvi mentally cursed and took hold of Celebrimbor’s hand where it had been loosely lying beside her. Absently, she began to massage the disjointed lines of his fingers. Some part of her still felt as if they would straighten out again if she did so even though she knew that was impossible. “He just wanted advice on something that is entirely impossible, that’s all,” she said as she closed her eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”

Celebrimbor frowned a little. “You were angry about something that is impossible?” he repeated in disbelief and a touch of mockery. Normally, trying to achieve the impossible would be exciting for Narvi, not infuriating.

“I never said I was angry,” Narvi pointed out. She tried hard to ignore the pang in her heart at how much he’d sounded like his old self just then. “Just go to sleep, Khel. Like I said, it wasn’t important at all.” Celebrimbor wasn’t at all certain that he believed her but decided that if she didn’t want to share he wouldn’t be able to change her mind. Like all Dwarves, Narvi was impossibly stubborn.

Celebrimbor sighed some and wrapped his arms around her a bit more securely. “Very well, then. Goodnight, Narvi.”

Narvi murmured her own goodnight and listened until Celebrimbor’s breathing deepened again. Her thumb moved absently over the smooth skin of Celebrimbor’s crooked fingers as she thought about everything that Glorfindel had said. She still was adamant that Celebrimbor is never asked about this so-called Ring that some idiot claimed to have found. Narvi was, however, worried that Glorfindel would not give up on his idea so easily. She would have to protect Celebrimbor from Glorfindel’s misguided attempts to get answers. She tried her utmost best to squash the annoying voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Óin that kept telling her keeping Celebrimbor away from this was unhealthy. Then she remembered how like his old self he had sounded just a few moments ago and felt more guilty. 

Óin did have a point as much as she hated to admit it. Celebrimbor she had known before would not be happy to be held back and protected. But that was the whole problem. He wasn’t the same. All of the fire and mischief that she so associated with him was gone. Narvi tried to not think about how Celebrimbor used to be for both their sakes. He didn’t need her constantly comparing how he had been before to how he was now. Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite stop herself from missing his old self either. Especially in moments like this where she was trying to help him. She knew she would most likely never have him back the way he had been but such a reality was hard to accept. As Narvi finally managed to get to sleep she allowed herself just a few tears that were quickly absorbed by her pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S Almost forgot to write in Oin's accent... because see I write his lines like normal first and then go back and butcher them... it's how I do all accents. I find it easier but it does run the risk of forgetting them ;P


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my wonderful beta for helping me get the tone of Narvi more correct and to make technical things more accurate.

Glorfindel's visit was still bothering Narvi even after several days. Narvi spent hours on end in her workshop trying to craft the conflicting emotions and thoughts out of her head. She was mostly confident that she had made the right choice, but that annoying little voice that still sounded way too much like Óin kept deciding to pipe up. She could only be thankful that Celebrimbor hadn't asked again what Glorfindel had wanted. Narvi wasn't entirely certain what she would say if he’d pressed her for more information.

A benefit of working hard enough to drown out her doubts was the amount Narvi got done. Most of the work was done to her boat, which was due for an overhaul. The engine, while perfectly functional, had not been as efficient as she would like and was heavy and inelegant. Narvi had managed to create a new one at almost half the size that worked much better and with fewer parts that could conceivably break down. She’d also gotten slightly carried away and designed a new prop that perhaps wasn’t entirely necessary but looked much nicer.

The only real difficulty she came across while installing the improved mechanical features of her boat was the prop, which was entirely below the waterline and so had to be fitted from below. To install the new prop involved hoisting the boat onto land and temporarily suspending it high enough for her to wriggle underneath. Narvi made a mental note to herself to create a more stable and secure method of working under the boat later on. She really should not have taken apart the dry dock she had built the boat in, but she had, at the time, thought what she reused the wood for was more important.

While working under the boat on the prop, Narvi reached out to grab her wrench blindly and felt the soft leather of a boot. She twisted so that she could look up at who was standing there. Celebrimbor was looking back with a small smile. "Khel!"

"Narvi."

"What are you doing out here? I thought you were in your conservatory," she said as she wriggled out from under the boat and brushed the dirt off of her backside.

"I was, but then I saw you out here and decided to come and see what you were doing," Celebrimbor said.

Narvi tried hard to not become too excited at the prospect of Celebrimbor being interested in some form of crafting again not to mention having him actually come out and investigate. Narvi didn't want her own enthusiasm discomfort her friend, so she did her best to remain calm. She cleared her throat and gestured to the boat. "Replacing the engine. I made the old one when I first found this place, and it badly needed an upgrade," she explained as as simply as she was able, resisting the urge to dive off on tangents on mechanics and alloy selection. “This one sucks in water from the river to heat up and make steam, and that pressure turns the prop beneath the boat. I’ve managed to get it almost twice as efficient as the old one.”

Celebrimbor tilted his head to the side as his eyes slid over the polished metal of the boiler that sat just slightly back from the center of the boat. She had incorporated several embellishments into the brass covering; these included diamond shaped rivets, two swans with wings sweeping around either side of the boiler, and her favourite Blacklock motif, a desert fox, curled around the furnace stack. Narvi found herself waiting with baited breath as Celebrimbor looked around. Normally, he would be bursting with comments and questions for her.

Celebrimbor gestured to the stack. “I see you’ve brought back your fox,” he said with affection. “I must say I’ve not noticed any of them in the tower than I would have expected… I rather miss them.”

Narvi shrugged. “Didn’t want to overpower anything.” There had been a period in her life where almost anything decorative had featured at least one of the big-eared and shrewd-eyed little creatures from her homeland. Narvi had always appreciated their intelligence and scrappy attitude when cornered, but in the past, such admiration had often led to her getting carried away. “Probably wouldn’t be so good if our tower turned out looking like my room in Khazad-dûm.”

“I never saw your private room in Khazad-dûm to compare,” Celebrimbor pointed out. “Your workshop didn’t seem to be overrun by them, from what I can remember.”

“That’s because they all ended up in my rooms,” Narvi replied. “I was young and couldn’t come up with anything different to decorate with. But anyway, it's almost done," Narvi said as she wiped the grease from the prop shaft off her hands onto a nearby rag.

"I must say, it is strange to see a Dwarf working on a boat. Even one so ingenious as this," Celebrimbor said as he put a hand on the side of the hull where there were a series of decorative carvings that echoed the ornaments on the engine.

Narvi shrugged and tried to not be too embarrassed by his flattery. "It's the fastest way back to town," she said. "Even one of those great beasties you seem so fond of couldn't get there and back as fast as this boat."

Celebrimbor smiled a bit. "You know, ponies are not so very different from horses, and I know Dwarves will ride ponies if necessary," he said as he let his hand move along the smooth wood railing.

"Exactly. If necessary, which it often isn't," Narvi said.

"You never did warm up to poor Ilith," Celebrimbor said still smiling. "She was really quite sweet."

Narvi grunted but refused to get into the subject of that horse again. More than once she had wound up riding the beast without wanting to do so. Still, she couldn't quite resist saying, "My boat's better."

Celebrimbor laughed. "I think it best if I simply agree with you, Narvi."

"Finally, you show some sense," Narvi shot back. Celebrimbor shook his head slightly but didn't choose to continue the mock argument. Narvi nodded to the boat. "I need to test out the engine still. Want to come with me?"

"It is getting rather late, Narvi. Would it not be better to test the engine in the morning? That way, if something goes wrong, you can actually see?"  
Narvi gave her Elven friend a bland stare. "The day a Dwarf can't fix something at night with a full moon above their head is far away indeed, Khel." Celebrimbor shifted where he stood uneasily. "Khel, what could possibly go wrong? You do trust me to know how to fix my own boat don’t you?"

Celebrimbor hesitated another moment before shaking his head. "Of course. I think I would like to test out your boat," he admitted.

"Then what's with the look?" Celebrimbor didn’t respond right away and Narvi huffed. “Oh, I see, it’s perfectly fine for you to drag me around on a horse of all things and you won’t even get on my perfectly safe boat that I designed myself. I have used this boat countless times and know every inch of it, I’ll have you know. It’s far more reliable than any monstrous four-legged… horse. Not to mention faster and a lot less smelly.”

Celebrimbor gave the slightest smile that faded after only a few moments. The Elf turned his eyes to the boat and picked at the railing absently. "... I have not been so far away from the tower before," he murmured after several minutes. "I fear what I will find away from our home."

Narvi reached over to put a hand on his arm. "Khel, I will be beside you the whole time. I have been up and down this river dozens of times and seen little more than squirrels and deer. I promise."

Celebrimbor paused for another few moments before finally nodding. "Alright, Narvi. I will go with you."

"Good. Let me just finish tightening these last bolts and then get her into the water," Narvi said as she gave his arm another brief squeeze before letting go to return to her work under the boat.

"You are supposed to name boats, are you not?" Celebrimbor asked having climbed into the ship to inspect it from the inside while Narvi finished puttering about with her adjustments, she could feel his soft footfall across the deck vibrating through the hull beneath her sensitive fingers.

Narvi blinked in surprise and turned her head to look after Celebrimbor, although she could no longer see him due to the angle. "Of course. Anything worth building needs a name. Why do you ask?"

"Because your ship does not appear to have one... unless you have simply not put the name upon her," Celebrimbor mused.

"Why does it have to be a her?” she asked with a frown although she didn’t wait for an answer, “I suppose I just haven't thought of one that really fit yet." Narvi reached up into the casing that prevented water from flooding up through the bottom of the hull and got her wrench around one of the bolts she had yet to tighten down.

Celebrimbor hummed aloud. "Perhaps we should name it Ilth," he suggested all too innocently.

"I am not naming my boat after your stupid horse," Narvi snapped instantly. Celebrimbor only laughed at her response; a clear sound above the waterfall that skipped across the pond surface, echoed off the nearby cliff and gladdened her heart.

Narvi's final adjustments only took a half hour and she was slightly surprised when Celebrimbor jumped back off the boat to help her push the ship back down the ramp. His unexpected participation made her additionally glad she had decided to focus on boat work. "There. It shouldn't take more than a second to figure out if I missed a seal," she said as she cleaned the last traces of grease from her hands.

"You're not one to miss something like that," Celebrimbor pointed out.

Narvi gave him a smile even as she pulled a cord that let the ramp unfold like a massive fan so that they could board. "After you then, Khel."

Celebrimbor nodded and carefully but quickly crossed the gangplank without a sound. Narvi shook her head at her friend’s light-footedness before getting on herself, causing quite a bit more motion as she did so. Narvi gave a single push off of the shore with a long pole and sent the boat gliding into the middle of the waterway.

The back of the boat was shaded by a canopy of thick forest green fabric, keeping the sun and rain off whoever sat at the tiller. Celebrimbor stood beside one of the poles supporting the awning for a moment or two before carefully moving to the front of the boat and taking a seat on one of the boxes that held basic supplies that was buckled to the deck.

Narvi watched the water with one eye and Celebrimbor with the other. He was tense and quiet where he sat by the edge of the boat. His eyes seemed focused on the banks as if something was about to spring free of the underbrush at them. Narvi just let him calm down at his own pace as she tested out the different speeds of the engine. Slowly, she noticed his grip on the railing of the ship loosening and the tension held in his shoulders easing away as they continued down the river.

Narvi deliberately slowed the boat as much as she could, wanting to give him plenty of time to enjoy his first real trip outside of their tower. The Dwarven craftswoman couldn't quite hold back her smile as, after nearly an hour of travelling, Celebrimbor relaxed enough that he looked down towards the water passing beneath the boat and not the trees on either side of them. The silence between the two friends was as comfortable as an old work glove - worn soft and familiar by time. Both were perfectly content to simply enjoy the ride and the company.

Celebrimbor reached down and trailed the tips of his fingers through the very surface of the water. He watched intently as the water rippled out behind his pale fingers. Celebrimbor moved his fingers back and forth slightly, still intently watching the tiny wakes as he manipulated them. Narvi knew that look in his eye. The calculating look was the exact same he always used to get when he was trying to figure out some puzzle or problem back in their workshops, that she had been trying to inspire. She certainly hadn't expected to see such a shrewd expression on his face out here on the river. Then again, Celebrimbor had always pulled inspiration from things and places a Dwarf never would think to look.

Narvi carefully guided her boat through a somewhat more treacherous area of the waterway that she knew for a fact had several sandbanks lurking under the surface. “I hate this section. It took me three trips up this damned river to find the one clear route through all the banks. Beached myself at least that many times. I felt like taking a spade to the whole section and save myself the headache…” 

Celebrimbor laughed softly as he looked back at her. “I think digging out the river would be more trouble than it is worth.”

“I could put a scoop on the front of the boat,” she mused. “Dig a little out each pass…”

“Such actions would have many unintended side effects,” Celebrimbor pointed out with a little smile.

Narvi couldn’t help but grin in reply. “Alright, so it wouldn’t be the best idea and a pain to actually do. But I still wish I had every time I come through this section. I always have to go so much slower here.”

“It’s rather pleasant to go slower… the scenery is quite beautiful,” he murmured dreamily.

Narvi wasn’t entirely certain how to take that statement from her friend. Was this stretch of river really so much different from the ones before it? "I told you it wasn’t so bad out here," Narvi said smugly as she angled the vessel to avoid the last bank in the short section.

Celebrimbor chuckled a little. "No, Narvi, you were quite right," he said as he turned back to continue studying the flow of water beneath them. "And your engine is surprisingly quiet."

"It ought to be after all the trouble I went to redesigning the thing," Narvi grumbled.

Celebrimbor gave her a quick smile before directing his attention back to the river. "Do you know how deep it is?"

"Not in this stretch," Narvi said. "Swimming isn't exactly my favorite pastime." The only time she had deliberately gone into the water was when she had been constructing the dock for the boat and the launch.  
Celebrimbor hummed as if thinking and then moved from his seat on the box to sit on the bottom of the boat. His new position made the low railing a convenient height for him to rest his arms across as he leaned over. The water was more awkward to reach, but Celebrimbor didn't seem to notice as he lowered his arm to trail his fingers through the water again. He watched the water for several moments before putting his head down on his own arm. Narvi couldn't help but be surprised at her friend. Normally, he only seemed this content anymore when they went to bed for the night.

Narvi continued to go down her river until she reached a larger waterway that she could then travel upstream. The larger river led directly to the emergent city and got both deeper and wider than her own. Narvi guided them along for nearly an hour until she reached the widest point of the waterways leading from their home to the city. The half mile long stretch of river ballooned outwards to the point where she was almost willing to call it a lake. She wasn't planning on going any further up river than that point. She didn't imagine Celebrimbor wanted to see the nearest settlement and due to how slowly she had been going the sky was beginning to darken. She'd sufficiently tested her new engine and prop. Plus, this section of the waterway was simply convenient to turn around in since her ship, wonderful as it was, didn’t have the smallest turning radius.

"I'm going to start heading back," Narvi told her companion even as she began making a wide arc. She did her best to keep from the shallows in this area as she could already see plenty of weeds growing up through the water in giant tangles. Those would easily tangle in the prop, and she didn't want to have to try and pull that mess free. She'd had to do it before on several of her supply runs and hadn't enjoyed the experience in the least. Her new prop might handle the vegetation better than the last, but such a test wasn’t high on her list of priorities.

The boat was almost entirely turned around when Celebrimbor lifted his head just slightly. "You've sprung a leak..."

More than a little alarmed, Narvi nearly jumped to her feet and began to quickly look at the bottom of the boat for any pools of water. "What? Where? Khel, I don't see a leak."

"Not in the hull," Celebrimbor said, turning to face her rather than the water. "I can hear it in the engine." He gestured with his free hand to the polished metal he was sitting in front of. "The steam is escaping... Perhaps a rivet has torn loose or a seam has distorted with the heat or... " Khel paused, devilry twinkling in his eyes "One of your welds might have had a slag inclusion."

Narvi spluttered at this old, unexpected and unquestionably dear ribbing. "I'll thank you to wash your tongue with soapweed before you comment on the quality of my welding. And Mahal's beard, don't scare me like that, Khel. A leak of steam is nothing compared to one in a hull.."

Celebrimbor had the most innocent expression on his face that Narvi had ever seen. "It isn't as if there's another name for it," he said lightly as if he hadn't just given his best friend a heart attack. "A leak is a leak no matter where it is or what is leaking."

Narvi grumbled to herself but stopped the boat and dropped the anchor so that she could get up from her seat and examine the casing of her engine. "Where's the hole, you pointy eared menace?" she asked as she looked for any streams of escaping steam. She couldn't hear the thing.

"On that side," Celebrimbor said pointing to the portside of the machine. "Near the top of the boiler chamber and a little towards the back, I think."

"Well, get over here and help me look for it," Narvi ordered with a slight wave of her hand. If the leak was indeed near the top, she wouldn't be able to see it from her vantage point. She would need Celebrimbor's height. She could probably wait to fix it herself at the dock if it really was just a small leak, but she wanted to be certain she found it and took a look before making such a decision.

Narvi was glad when he got to his feet and came over to do as she said. He put a hand on her shoulder as he looked around the top of the engine. Narvi tried not to be too obvious as she watched Celebrimbor examine the top seam for any holes. "It's hot so don't touch it," she warned before she could help herself.

Celebrimbor gave her a smile. "Believe me, _mellon_ , I have no desire to burn myself. I'll be quite careful."

Narvi grunted a little but continued to watch him. He didn't seem to be forcing himself to help her, and this was the closest to his old self he’d been in a very long time. Perhaps being out in the open air opposed to an enclosed workshop was helping him from having a relapse. Maybe she should add an outdoor forge to the tower somewhere. "Do you see anything, Khel?"

"Give me a moment."

After a few minutes of searching along the top, Celebrimbor let out a little noise and lifted a hand to point at one of the few welded seams still visible. "Ah, I believe this is the leak, Narvi," he said. "It couldn't be larger than a pinhole and so shouldn't take very much to fix."

"Is it safe to keep running the engine do you think?" Narvi asked.

"Mm, yes, I think so," Celebrimbor said as he looked back down at her. "The pressure in the chamber is not so high as to cause much more damage, I don't believe."

"Good, then we'll get going again," Narvi said. "Unless you think we can fix it out here..."

Celebrimbor paused and looked back at the small leak. "We probably could... but I don't see any immediate need to. Better to take it home where you have everything you could possibly need. And the time required."

"I brought a lot of tools with us," Narvi pointed out. "But, you're right. It's not a danger. Thank you for finding it for me, _'arstunz_."

"Well, not telling you I could hear it seemed silly," he replied.

Narvi snorted. "Like being silly's ever stopped you before," she said before giving him a nudge. "Now go sit down again while I start us up... before you fall in or something."

"I think if anyone is in danger of falling in, it is you, _mellon_ ," Celebrimbor said with a smile.

"A lower centre of gravity has more stability - you know this, Khel."

Celebrimbor blinked, "It is usually the one that cannot swim that seems to fall into the water."

"The Dwarrow saying is they who flail most fall first. And you know I never flail Khel, Never flail and never fail. Besides I _can_ swim."

"Since when?!"

"Since I learned. Stop being an ingot of pig iron and sit down so I needn't have to find my boat hook for when you fall in."

Celebrimbor smiled. "Well, I stand corrected and apologize most sincerely, my friend."

"Sit yourself down, Khel. You're the one who didn't want to be out here in the dark," she said as she reached over to grab hold of the tiller again. Celebrimbor nodded and went back to his original seat on the box of rope and he began his tuneless humming as he plucked leaves from the water surface and occasionally flicked playful droplets of water in Narvi's direction. She couldn’t quite help the grin that formed as they made their way back along the river. Getting Celebrimbor out of the house had done an incredible amount of good if he was helping her like old times.

She tried to temper her excitement with caution. Just because Celebrimbor had finally helped with something didn’t mean he was instantly back to normal. Narvi knew that they had a long way yet to go.

The sun was setting quickly, and already the sky was turning dark purple above them. Luckily, the night was clear and as the final rays of sun started to fade away the early evening moon replaced them. Perhaps not ideal for navigating the river by, but Narvi was confident that between her night vision and the moonlight she wouldn’t have any issue getting them back. 

However, getting dark meant other things as well. After making sure they were in a relatively straight stretch of water, Narvi went over to the box that Celebrimbor was sitting on. She shooed him off of it impatiently and he slid back down to the bottom of the boat. She rummaged around inside for just a moment before finding the dragon shaped incense burner that she then hung on a nearby hook. She put a cone of citronella inside the belly of the dragon and lit it so that the smoke would pour out of the dragon’s maw. “Are the bugs so very bad?” Celebrimbor asked curiously. “I hadn’t noticed them…”

“I would prefer to not have any. I hate their bites. Best to just get the smoke out before they start swarming.” 

Celebrimbor laughed a little but just moved to dangle his fingers into the current once again. Narvi thought he might enjoy being close to the moving water. Though his hand was dragging through the water, Celebrimbor was looking upwards at the night sky.

Narvi found her eyes drifting over to her friend more than once; partially, because of the faint glow coming from his already pale skin that seemed stronger and steadier than when he first returned to her and partially because he seemed so entirely at peace. She didn’t want the trip to end and deliberately slowed the boat further. If Celebrimbor noticed he didn’t say anything, he just continued to study the stars with the faintest smile on his face.

When the dock came into view, Celebrimbor finally looked back to where Narvi was sitting at the tiller. “Thank you for insisting I join you, Narvi,” he said. “I enjoyed it very much.”

“Then you’ll just have to come with me next time too,” Narvi replied. If one trip up and down the river could help him so much she knew that more would do him further good.

Celebrimbor smiled as he got to his feet. “Perhaps I will.” Narvi gave him a smile even as he nimbly jumped onto the dock and promised him silently that she would be dragging him down from his tower for another boat ride soon. Narvi tossed one of the thick ropes to Celebrimbor for him to secure while Narvi grabbed one of her own. As they were finishing their knots, Narvi heard the door to their home open. She looked up and scowled at the sight of Óin and someone far too tall and glowing approaching them.

“Narvi?” Celebrimbor asked before turning to see what had attracted her attention. When he saw the two figures drawing near, he stiffened to the point that Narvi thought he might shatter.

Óin and their visitor stopped at the edge of the dock. “Telperinquar.”

“Artanis.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER EXTRA SPECIAL CONFETTI OF THANKS FOR PAPERTIGRESS! for being an awesome beta ^_^
> 
> Also! I have updated chapters 1-3 based on her beta comments. I suggest re-reading those chapters as a lot of new details have been packed in there for you that should make little plot holes and things go away.

Narvi had never been Galadriel's biggest admirer. The reasons for Narvi's dislike were varied, but she knew that Celebrimbor adored his cousin and so she'd been polite the few times they had met. Now, however, with her unexpected presence causing Celebrimbor to shake and his good mood evaporate as if it had never been there, Narvi felt she had every right to send the Golden Lady packing. "What are you doing here, Galadriel? I made it clear I didn't want any unexpected visitors," she said, firmly placing herself in front of Celebrimbor.

"I needed to speak with my cousin," Galadriel said serenely without moving her eyes from Celebrimbor's. Narvi could practically feel her friend shake behind her and just knew that Galadriel was speaking to him in his head. Narvi was infuriated and took a threatening step closer to Galadriel. She was rewarded when the Elven Lady finally looked down.

"I already told Glorfindel my answer," Narvi growled. She wished she had her hammer with her. She felt like smashing something to rubble.

Galadriel inclined her head just slightly. "It was not your answer to give, Narvi." Galadriel's eyes looked past the Dwarven craftswoman to Celebrimbor again. She _felt_ Celebrimbor stiffen again. Part of her wanted to turn and comfort her friend, but another larger part wanted to first get rid of Galadriel. Galadriel's eyes softened with something close to pity, and Narvi felt her anger spike. Celebrimbor didn't need nor want pity! He never had! Didn’t Galadriel know that?

"Galadriel! This is our home, and you were not invited!" Narvi snapped. "Go back to wherever it is you're living now and leave us in peace! And you can tell Glorfindel that he's no longer welcome either!"

_It is not me you are angry with, Narvi._

Narvi stiffened. She _hated_ when Galadriel did that mind speech thing! "Keep out of my mind, Galadriel," she ordered. "You aren’t welcomed there either. Come on, Khel. It's late, and you haven't eaten yet." She turned and reached for Celebrimbor's arm but was surprised to see that his trembling had all but ceased He was staring at Galadriel, different emotions flickering across his brow faster than Narvi could interpret. "Khel?"

Celebrimbor slowly got to his feet and very deliberately brushed the dirt from his knees. His expression quickly became guarded and wary, and Narvi wished she knew what they were talking about. She just knew it couldn't be anything good. What if it was that ring foolishness again? Narvi whipped back around to glare at Galadriel. "Galadriel! I told you to leave! Do so before I make you!"

"Narvi," Óin interrupted. "Lady Galadriel isn' here ta harm anyone."

Narvi shot him an annoyed and somewhat betrayed look. Wasn't he supposed to be on her and Celebrimbor's side? Just then, Celebrimbor took a small step back, drawing Narvi's attention instantly. His twisted fingers were clenched into two tight fists, and his blue eyes were fixed to Galadriel's. "... that is impossible," Celebrimbor breathed so softly that Narvi almost missed it entirely.

Galadriel's expression clouded over with sadness. "So we thought, but there are ways in the darkness for the impossible to be reached," she said somewhat cryptically.

Celebrimbor inhaled sharply and Narvi inserted herself between them fully again. "Enough of this! Galadriel, I'll not have you upsetting him!"

"Narvi." She turned at her softly spoken name to look at Celebrimbor, who was now focused entirely on her. For some reason, she couldn't quite place she felt uncomfortable. His pretty eyes held something strange that she could not put a name to. "Is what Galadriel said true?"

Narvi snorted. "How would I know? It's not like I can hear what she told you," she pointed out sourly.

Celebrimbor looked hurt, but she'd only been telling the truth, so she had to be misreading his strange expression. "Was a Ring found, Narvi?"

"Of course not," Narvi replied with more than a little annoyance. This was ridiculous. Why were they still insisting on such an impossibility? And now bringing it up to Celebrimbor? "The only Rings of Power left is that one," Narvi jabbed her finger at the shining silver and white band on Galadriel's hand, "and its brethren."

"That we have no proof of," Galadriel said. Narvi glared fiercely at her, wishing she would just disappear already. Celebrimbor had been happy before she'd shown up and stuck her prim perfect little nose into things! Galadriel blithely ignored Narvi and focused instead on Celebrimbor. "We have a sketch of the ring in question. Will you look at it?"

Narvi bristled in outrage. "Now see here! This is foolishness! You know that there's no way that this ring exists and-"

"I will," Celebrimbor said abruptly.

Narvi whipped back around to stare at her friend. He would what? "Khel..."

Suddenly Celebrimbor's eyes flashed with a fire Narvi hadn't seen in over an age and Narvi recoiled a step from the shock of seeing it again and moreso from the fact it was directed at her. "Enough, Narvi. You had no right to keep this from me! I may be broken, but I am not so useless to not be able to make my own decisions! I am no child for you to protect! Nobody, not even you, is permitted to keep such secrets from me, Narvi!"

Narvi stared open mouthed at her friend. His shaking had disappeared entirely, his blue eyes were near glowing, and it was as if the flames of his anger got caught in his hair, which seemed to fluff slightly, as hackles do, even as she stood there flabbergasted. This was not the reaction she had expected. Celebrimbor's fury took her breath away. "I... I do not think you useless," she managed to say. "Or broken."

"Your actions say otherwise. You bring forth a healer without my permission, which I decided to overlook, and now you keep news of this ring from me!" Celebrimbor said with a harsh gesture first at Óin then towards Narvi herself. 

“It’s ridiculous! There’s no way it could be a Ring of Power!” Narvi argued. “Elrond was clear that they wouldn’t have survived the destruction of the One!”

“There is much of Arda Renewed yet to be discovered. Who can tell what is, is not and is yet to be,” Galadriel commented serenely. Narvi shot her an annoyed look. How was she still standing there calm after stirring all this up?

Celebrimbor took what seemed to be a steadying breath, but it did little to remove the accusation from his eyes. Narvi’s own gaze was drawn back instantly despite herself. Though she hated when he was angry, because he so rarely was and it didn’t seem to suit him, Narvi had found herself glad by the animation his outrage had stirred in him. Now if only that anger wasn’t directed at her. “Do you have this drawing, Galadriel?” he asked without looking at his cousin.

“No. That is in Glorfindel’s hands,” she answered. “He is still nearby. Shall I summon him for you?”

Celebrimbor gave a nod. "It has grown too dark here though. Let him come into the tower, where there are have lights and refreshments. I will meet him there." With that he turned on his heel without a glance at Narvi and strode back to their abode.

“Khel!” Narvi gave Galadriel and Óin another glare as she rushed past them to catch with her friend. Celebrimbor, despite his lingering frailty, still had much longer gait than Narvi and crossed the yard quickly. Only through the virtue of the door being slow to open did Narvi manage to catch up with him. As he reached the entry room she grabbed at his gnarled fingers. He abruptly stopped but didn’t look down at her. “You cannot tell me this makes any sense! This ring cannot possibly be one made in Eregion! That damnable thing he made was thrown into Mount Doom! It’s gone, and so are all His works,” she insisted. “It’s not possible, and I didn’t want to upset you over something not possible.”

Celebrimbor stared off at nothing for a few minutes before finally looking down at her. “This must be over, Narvi. It simply must,” he said firmly. “I will never be able to rest in this world if there is even the slimmest chance that one of those twisted relics survived and nothing is done to counter it. I will not allow it. And you do not have the right to make such decisions for me. You do not know my mind better than me.”

Narvi stared at him in astonishment. She had been so certain that just being forced to meet his kin, let alone confront the terrible memories of his death, would have him emotionally fracturing into splinters, like fine porcelain heated and then plunged into cold water. Instead it was as if the encounter had cracked off a dross and tarnished mold, revealing the mithril-bright strength of will that had been hidden beneath apparent weakness and corrosion. The old Celebrimbor had been strong, but she’d been convinced that this was the blow that would turn cracks into fissures and splinter him entirely. Narvi studied him carefully for anything to indicate he was on the verge of another breakdown. His hands were shaking but not to the point that she had been expecting. On the whole he looked remarkably in centered still.

"I worried for you - you did not react well to being near my workshop and I would not have you so distraught again by-"

"And you never let me try again did you," Celebrimbor interrupted "You were never one to stop working a metal because you found the boundaries of its strength Narvi, except with me - You all but wrapped me in wadding and packed me into a crate!" He drew in a breath and lowered his voice, holding up his shattered hands, presenting them to her, “When have I ever backed away from what was hard, Narvi?”

There was a moment's silence and then Narvi snapped, months of pent up worry and her frustration with Galadriel finding an outlet through words that roared out of her like a forest fire, scorching and out of her control. "That was before you were a broken fragment of starlight I scraped off the floor. That was before you wouldn't speak, wouldn't eat, wouldn't crawl out of bed for months! That was before I dragged you out from under a stairway where you were hiding from horrors I could not defeat for you! I want you safe and happy, Khel." Narvi's voice cracked and she dashed away an angry tear, flicking it against the wall with a snap of her hand. "You don't owe the rest of the world a cold boiled potato Khel and I won't let them send you back the way you came."

Celebrimbor looked at her, affection kindling in his eyes once more. She snuffled angrily and wiped her nose on the oil rag from her pocket, leaving a streak of grease across her broad, flat nose.

"Oh Narvi..." Celebrimbor knelt and reached out for her. She stood rigid and aloof, still angry at everything she couldn't fix for him and not willing to readily accept his acceptance of her angry and indirect apology. He shuffled closer and wrapped his long slender arms around her, squeezing her hard enough to make even her Dwarven ribs creak. After a moment's hesitation, she awkwardly hugged back. "I will learn if this ring is one of mine Narvi, I would balance the wrong done by what I wrought. I died a traitor.."

“No!”

“I did,” he insisted. “I told them all about the Rings. Every single secret I swore to keep I told them. If this is one of the fifteen He left a mark upon then I will do whatever must be done to see it destroyed and so atone, in some small part, for what has come to pass through my foolishness."

"This is Arda Remade," Narvi stated, half muffled by his tunic "We are meant to be free of the imperfections of the old world. This is meant to be a new start for everyone!"

"Not for me, Narvi... Not for me. I must confront this and if it is one of the seven, or the nine..." His fingers lightly rested on her head a moment and she knew he was rolling one of her tight ringlets around his finger unconsciously. He had done it several times before as they drowsed together in bed. “I must do this, Narvi,” he repeated.

Narvi swallowed hard. She still thought that it was a terrible idea. "Alright," she breathed, lifting her face from his chest, where the grease mark from her nose had, unheeded by either of them, transferred to his tunic, "Alright, but..."

She roughly cupped the back of his head, that fiery hair spilling around her calloused fingers and catching like spider silk. She pulled him forward and, gently for a Dwarrow, bumped their foreheads together. "But I'm going to go with you. Wherever it is you've got to go. And if any anyone makes you hurt, or thinks to make you hurt, I'm going to smack them between the eyes with a number six hammer."

“You cannot fight the world for me, Narvi,” he said, sounding somewhat amused.

“Of course I can,” Narvi grumbled. “I’ll fight and smash them all to pieces.”

Celebrimbor cautiously lifted his own free hand to brush over her cheek and wipe away the last trace of an angry tear. He did not draw away again, to wipe his fingers dry on his tunic as Narvi might have expected. Instead, with an air of concentration, his fingertip ghosted down the side of her nose and brushed along where the braids framed the corner of her mouth. Light as a moth he traced these down to her chin. Narvi shouldn’t let him do that, she should belt his hand away with her own. Touching another person's beard in public, or without expressed permission, was highly improper, she knew that Khel knew this, but she made no comment. “Still mothering me?” he asked as his fingers continued to trace down one of her moustache braids. The soft touch vibrated up her whiskers and made her top lip tingle strangely.

Narvi nearly lost her train of thought completely as Celebrimbor's fingers wove in under her bristles to gently touch the warm flesh of her jaw. She shivered and tried to pull herself together. “Always,” she managed to say, squeezing her eyes shut. She should step back. She should catch his hand and stop its exploration. She should run her hands across the soft curve of his skull under all that liquid amber hair.

“Would that please you?”

Narvi had to blink. What? She had been too distracted by his frankly too gentle touches to her beard. Her grip on the back of his neck tightened, to ground herself again, weaving his long hair between her fingers even more. “Would what please me?” she managed to ask. When had her voice gotten that rough?

Celebrimbor looked a little bemused and finally allowed his hand to drift away from her beard to instead catch one of her hair braids that was hanging over her shoulder. “To be by my side when I look at this picture. Would that please you?”

“You wouldn’t dare leave me out of this,” she said firmly.

“Then together,” he replied in a voice that sent warmth curling through her chest. Narvi couldn’t help but smile. 

Suddenly, there was an awkward sounding cough, and she hastily released Celebrimbor to spring away from the fiery-haired Elf. Unfortunately, she was a little too hasty in her retreat and wound up sitting on the ground. Óin was standing there at the doorway looking rather uncomfortable. “Galadriel’s off callin’ for Glorfindel so I was gonna remind ya ‘bout dinner, Narvi,” he said, looking just slightly off to the side of them. “Bu’ if yer busy…”

Narvi felt her cheeks burning under her beard. How utterly mortifying to be caught in such a position. “Right- Dinner. Come on, Khel!” The elf rose from his knees and held out his hand to help her up. Narvi grabbed it automatically, as she has a hundred times before, but this time her hand tingles with the contact. Celebrimbor pulled her up and Narvi quickly released his hand to wipe her own on her trousers to try and get the strange tingling to stop. "I'll peel the potatoes for you," she said in a clipped tone before stomping off towards the kitchen. Whether or not Celebrimbor followed, she couldn’t be sure, but either way, she had to clear her head a bit so that she could figure out what had just happened.

“Narvi?”

She opened her eyes instantly and looked over to see Celebrimbor looking down at her. “Are you going to help me or not?” he asked lightly.

“I said I would didn’t I?” she asked back. “I was just thinking. Now, let’s get you fed.”

“You should eat more than you do, as well,” Celebrimbor pointed out as she moved across the kitchen to grab a sack of potatoes. “You’re not going to try to cook again are you, Narvi?” he asked, seemingly genuinely worried about the prospect.

“I should, just to teach you a lesson,” she said though she was mostly joking.

“A lesson in what? Indigestion?” Celebrimbor asked as he followed her across the room silently to gather some other vegetables. 

Narvi scoffed. “You think you’re so clever. No, a lesson on not worrying me so much,” she answered flippantly as she took her chosen potatoes over to the workstation to start peeling off their rough skin.

“I do not think it’s possible for me to _not_ worry you, Narvi,” he said dryly. “You seem to delight in fretting over me, even when it isn’t warranted.” Slowly, hesitantly, Khel placed a hand over Narvi's where she clutched one of the large spuds, his mangled fingers were light and warm. “But I am glad you worry over me, Narvi. Even if you sometimes get a bit... overzealous…” 

His hand pressed down on hers a brief moment, firm but not confining, before he reached for a paring knife from the nearby block and began to peel turnips. Narvi pulled a face at the vegetable he’d picked, even as she felt her face burning again and her heart give a double stomp like a very enthusiastic but inebriated dancer. Mentally she cursed and sputtered as she tried to get a hold of herself. This... **This** was going to complicate **Everything**.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time. 
> 
> This chapter isn't actually edited. I have the Beta Comments from PaperTigress and I know what I need to re-write/change... but I have had the hardest time with this chapter. If it isn't completely losing my edited copy it's this headache that I've had for the last two days that won't go away. But I promised on Twitter it would be out today at least and I really wanted to keep that promise. So I beg your pardon for the chapter not being fine-tuned and will update it later on when I can actually focus on it without making my head split in two.
> 
> NOW BEEN EDITED!

Glorfindel, as it turned out, had managed to get himself involved in a troupe of Elves that were passing through the area and would need at least the night to fully detach himself from the festivities and return to the tower. Galadriel predicted he would arrive shortly before sunrise with the sketch. Narvi was less than pleased. She'd rarely been fond of people staying within her domain. Narvi had never intended to have 'guest rooms' as Haban had in her home, but she couldn't exactly kick Galadriel out to sleep in the woods either. Celebrimbor was already less than pleased and she didn't think he'd be any happier to find his cousin wasn't allowed to stay inside. So, with reluctance, Narvi escorted Galadriel up the tower to the Conservatory. As an Elf, Galadriel should appreciate the view of the stars, Narvi thought.

Galadriel wandered the room as Narvi dragged a blanket out of the small trunk that it had been stored in for when Celebrimbor wasn’t napping so that Galadriel had some sort of bedding. Narvi threw the dark blanket over the lounge that Celebrimbor so favored and figured that would do for a single night. Although perhaps she should invest in a guest room just in case other unavoidable visitors came by in the future.

“I see now why you needed those cushions,” Galadriel said from over by Celebrimbor’s plants. “Quite thoughtful.”

Narvi couldn’t quite help but scowl. She really didn’t want to get dragged into a conversation with the Elf Queen right then. Though showing Galadriel up to the Conservatory and then readying the ‘bed’ for her had only taken at most ten or twelve minutes, Celebrimbor’s quick escape after dinner hadn’t escaped her notice. The redheaded Elf had been even more silent during the meal and fled the moment he could, probably to avoid speaking with his cousin, Narvi thought. 

Narvi made her way back down to her own room and was surprised to see that Celebrimbor wasn't there already. With how early Celebrimbor had left, he should have been already in bed by now. After a few moments, she knocked on the door to the bathroom but got no response. 

Narvi frowned and glanced into the bathroom just to be sure, but as she expected there was no Celebrimbor inside. Well, if he wasn’t in bed or the bathroom, and he certainly wasn’t in the Conservatory and she highly doubted that he’d be in his own mostly abandoned rooms upstairs that left very few options. “Where is that Elf?" she grumbled as she left the bedroom to look for the Elf the only other place she could think he could be.

The forge that Narvi had built was truly the heart of their home, situated in the very middle of the hill with several halls leading to it from several portions of the underground section of house. Deep enough so that the river didn’t seep in and with plenty of room to increase in size if ever Narvi felt it warranted. Narvi had created a set of thick stone doors with metal bracing that was sculpted to resemble fire. Therefore, the doors were quite heavy and she never left them open.

However, the doors were definitely open a crack and the familiar flickering light of a fire was shining through. Narvi was somewhat nervous about what she would find in the forge after last time Celebrimbor got too close to it but she also remembered how he had protested Narvi not ‘letting him try again’ so perhaps it was a good thing.

“Khel?” Narvi called as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Sure enough, the fire was going though it didn't look like it was being used as intended. Bits of ash that could only be from burnt parchment floated on the updraft of the forge to then slowly settle again. Fragments of burned paper had escaped the fire to litter the floor like dead leaves. The forge and a single lantern on their own was sufficient for Narvi to take in the scene.

Celebrimbor was sitting beside Narvi's drafting table with the lantern beside him just staring at the fire across the room. His twisted fingers were tangled together in front of his mouth. Narvi could see tear tracks down his face. Soot had caught in places darkening their edges. "Khel?" she asked as she made her way closer. "What are you doing in here?" She didn't bother with asking if he was alright.

The question wasn't immediately answered and Narvi thought he might not have heard her at all. She got beside Celebrimbor and put a hand to his shoulder to give him a slight shake. In case he really hadn't noticed she was there, she didn't want to startle him but also bring his attention to her presence. He didn't startle but didn't look away from the fire either. "I miss it sometimes..." he said after a several long minutes of silence.

"You're more than welcome to join me, Khel," Narvi said.

Celebrimbor shook his head. "I can't." Narvi was about to ask why but stopped when Celebrimbor tilted his head towards the drafting table. "The best one..."

Narvi looked past her friend to where a ring had been drawn larger than life. The sketch wasn't anything like what she would have expected from her friend. The circle was lopsided and the lines nowhere near as crisp as they should have been. The straight lines of the runes and facets of the jewel were shaky and those that were meant to be parallel were not. She was quiet for another minute before looking back at the fire. The burned fragments of papers from her stack of drafting supplies were still floating through the air. "We can fix your fingers, Khel..." Narvi ventured.

"That is only half the problem..." Celebrimbor muttered.

"Then what's the other half?"

Celebrimbor sighed heavily and finally looked over at Narvi. "Would you say that... thing is a well designed ring?"

Narvi looked back at the sketch. "It... is not badly designed," she offered. She didn't want to admit that it didn't look like something he would have done. Even ignoring the poor quality of the draft the ring was lacking the usual finesse that she'd come to expect from Celebrimbor's works. The ring was... clunky for lack of a better word. There was nothing inherently wrong with it but it looked more like one of his first drafts than a finished idea.

"Do not try to spare my feelings, Narvi. It's unlike you," he said before reaching over to pick up the sketch. "It's amateurish and I hate everything about it."

Narvi wasn't going to agree out loud. "Maybe you should try something other than rings," she suggested.

"I have. They were disasters and I destroyed the evidence so you will never be able to mock me for them," Celebrimbor said with a small wry and self-depreciating smile. His smile fell almost instantly and was replaced with a look of abject misery. Celebrimbor’s perfect posture had fled entirely and his shoulders were slumped as his eyes turned back to the one drawing left.

"When have you tried?" Narvi asked. As far as she knew Celebrimbor hadn't so much as picked up a pen to draft anything the whole time he'd been living with her.

"Does it matter? They weren't attempts worth keeping. Even if I could draw straight," Celebrimbor said before crumpling the paper into a ball. "I've lost my skill, Narvi. I haven't had a new idea since I got here and when I try to do something despite that it's... ugly."

"Then don't force it," Narvi stated.

"If I don't then I will never regain my skills and I don't know who I am if I don't have those!" Celebrimbor snapped. "What else am I supposed to do, Narvi?"

"You should have told me about this, Khel."

"You were worried enough as it was," he muttered, looking off to the side.

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "I was worried because you weren't trying to do anything and that was odd. I'm glad to hear you've been trying again. This is just a creative block."

Celebrimbor looked up with obvious confusion. "A what?"

"A creative block," Narvi repeated. She couldn't quite help but smile at the expression on his face. Narvi rarely saw him confused but she couldn’t help but feel very satisfied with herself. This wasn’t the same confusion as he’d had when he was first coming back to her this was the confusion she used to see when Celebrimbor was trying to puzzle out how one of her techniques worked or how she’d made a particular leap of logic. "It's where you want to make things but you have no ideas or inspiration," she explained.

Celebrimbor only looked marginally less confused by her explanation. "How horrible... I've never had such a feeling before."

Of course he hadn't, she thought with an eye roll. "Well I have, And to be honest, quite recently," she told him. "And it passes, Khel. I promise."

"In how long?"

"I think it varies," she said.

Celebrimbor scowled down at the crumpled paper he was still holding. "How annoying." He tossed the ball into the fire and a fresh plume of snow-like ash rose into the air. The two of them watched as the delicate bits of spent paper floated back to the ground.

"Well done,” Narvi said with amusement. “You can help clean that up now. Then we can go to bed, Khel. Who knows when Glorfindel will get here tomorrow. The last thing I want is to be tired when dealing with him. You know how bloody cheerful he is in the morning."

"One of the more annoying things about him if I remember your words correctly," Celebrimbor said, his scowl relaxing into a smile.

"It is," she grunted. Narvi preferred her mornings quiet and Glorfindel didn't seem capable of that. He was always happy. Loudly happy. Distractingly so when all Narvi really wanted to do was work on her drafts and plans.

Narvi went over to the corner of the room and retrieved a broom. “Come on then,” she said holding the handle out to him. “Sooner we get this cleaned up the sooner we can get some rest.”

Celebrimbor blinked and tore his eyes away from the few bits of ash still slowly descending. He took the broom and began to clean up the mess of burnt paper and flimsy ash.

Narvi watched him for a moment before starting to clean up. Between the two of them the mess was cleaned up relatively quickly and for once neither got very distracted by anything. Narvi wished she had seen the other drafts before they were destroyed. Then she would be able to see if they really were as terrible as Celebrimbor said or if he was just being overly hard on himself. But, she supposed, if he really hated them that much she couldn't blame him for burning them. Narvi had destroyed plenty of things that didn't meet her standards without anyone seeing them.

Most of the ash was cleaned up and all that was left was to put the desk back in order. “Go on ahead, Khel,” she said with a nod towards the door. “Take the warmer with you. It’s there by the forge. I’ll be there in just a minute.” Celebrimbor nodded and carefully picked up the now heated ceramic brick that Narvi used to warm the end of their bed with a pair of special made tongs. 

By the time Narvi had finished in the workshop and went to bed, Celebrimbor was already under the covers and partially curled on his side. He didn't stir while Narvi got ready for bed or when she climbed in beside him but somehow Narvi knew that he wasn't in Reverie yet. "Was tonight the first time you've gone to the workshop?" she asked as she wrapped an arm around his waist.

"...yes," he murmured. "It felt wrong to be in there."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It just did... maybe because I didn't have any ideas..." 

Narvi fumbled in front of him in the dark and found one of his hands, threading their fingers together. As they laid there in bed a stiffness held in Celebrimbor’s body slowly eased and as it did, he started to tremble. Celebrimbor stayed like that for a few heartbeats before rolling to bury his face in Narvi’s shoulder. “There now, Khel. You did well. And I didn’t even have to carry you down any stairs. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Celebrimbor let out a noise that could have been a laugh or it could have been a sob, it was hard to tell with how he hand muffled himself in her shoulder and neck. His arms tightened around her and he stayed with his face burrowed close for several minutes. “I… I can barely believe I did it,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. “I managed to be in there and – I could even restoke the forge but it’s gone… so much of what I was is just… lost in the void and I can’t – how am I supposed to such a large part of my soul missing?”

Narvi thought about her answer as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I don’t think it’s as big a part of your soul as you think,” she finally answered. Celebrimbor pulled back just enough to look at her. “You still have that goodness in you, Khel. That core is still there and you should know that means we can still make repairs.”

Celebrimbor studied her face for a long minute with wet eyes before finally laying his head back down on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything but slowly as he stayed curled around her warmer body the trembling ceased. Narvi continued to hold him without protest as he leeched warmth and comfort from her.

After what felt like an hour, Celebrimbor reluctantly turned back to the side he preferred to rest on although he kept his fingers laced with Narvi’s. Narvi tucked herself against his back again and let the last bits of tension in him that he’d been holding since the forge slowly get released.

“I wanted to try and redraw the rings..." Celebrimbor muttered. "... I can remember every facet and line but I couldn't make the drawing look how I remember them. So, I thought perhaps it was because I was trying to recreate something I already had done and should try something new instead... you saw the result of that..."

The Dwarven craftswoman hummed to show she heard and understood. Her thumb moved across one of his bent fingers without conscious thought. "You said you tried other things as well?" Narvi asked against his shoulder. He nodded just enough for Narvi to feel his silky hair move between her cheek and his back. "What have you tried, Khel?"

"Nearly everything I could think of..." Celebrimbor muttered almost too low for Narvi to hear. "Doors... jewelry... even weapons and armor. I even tried to design a figure-head for your boat and that was an abject disaster. I'm glad you didn't see it."

"I would have liked to," Narvi replied as her thumb continued to rub over his angled digit. Narvi kept expecting the bone to realign into the intended line if only she kept tracing it. "I always enjoy seeing what you're working on."

He shook his head, tugging his hair out from under her cheek again. "Nothing was worth you looking at."

"Didn't you once tell me we're our own worst critics?" she asked.

"That was different."

"How so?" Narvi questioned.

"Because your work has always been magnificent and mine no longer is..." Celebrimbor supplied softly. "Just look at how ingenious you've been with the designs of this house... I had not even fathomed the things you have."

Narvi's fingers squeezed his broken ones gently. "I've had a long time to come up with those ideas," she said. "Centuries waiting in Mahal's Halls... I had to keep myself occupied somehow."

"Were the halls everything you thought they would be?" Celebrimbor asked his curiosity caught and evidently grateful for a change of topic.

Narvi shrugged and turned her head slightly against his back. His hair tangled in the braids of her beard but she was now angled properly to hear his heart beating through his back. The steady paced thumping under her ear was comforting in how strong and regular it was. "I suppose they were, but after a few centuries they got tedious."

"Tedious?" he echoed, sounding amused. "In what way?"

"After a while all the days seemed to blend together. I'm not even sure I could say how many things I made or designed or even redesigned just to pass the time. Nothing interesting happened, save a few key events. And as wonderful as collaborating with Telchar and Bar was... they didn't challenge me like you did," she said. Telchar and Bar always had great ideas and useful comments on her work but rarely said anything without prompting and would never have questioned why one of her designs was a certain way. They let her do what she thought would be best with her own work. Celebrimbor, by contrast, had always questioned why she did things and never waited before volunteering ideas that were, to her at least, completely unexpected. Nobody had quite managed to push her like Celebrimbor had. Not even Narvi's teachers. 

"I understand," Celebrimbor said. "Very few people ever challenged me either... I remember finding the same forms and materials boring after so long using them... It was part of why I pressed Durin so hard to work with you on the gates."

Narvi lifted her head to look over Celebrimbor's shoulder. "You did? I thought that was Durin's idea."

Celebrimbor looked up at her with a small if somewhat sheepish smile. "Well, he agreed with me... but I was the one to suggest it... I liked your work. Durin didn't think you'd be interested in working with me at all but I kept asking and eventually he agreed to make sure you did..."

"You... requested to work with me?" Narvi echoed in bewilderment. She had never been told that. Durin had simply told her that as their best craftsman that she was the only one they'd want to represent them to the Elves. And then he'd ordered her to work with the Elf when she tried to get out of it. There hadn't been even the slightest hint that Celebrimbor had picked her specifically to work with.

"As I said, I'd liked the work of yours I'd seen before."

"And what did you see?" Narvi asked curiously. She had made countless things before meeting Celebrimbor but she hadn't once thought anything would have caught the eye of an Elf.

Celebrimbor glanced off to the side. "You will think me silly."

"I already think that. Just tell me."

Celebrimbor sighed. "When Durin first came to my city he had many finely crafted things but I didn't pay too much attention to them. I had seen their like many times before. But then at dinner, instead of using the cutlery we provided he ate, as the Khazad do, with his fingers but he also drew out an eating dagger, one that took my breath away. It had a dark blue sapphire on the top framed by seven tiny diamonds..."

Narvi remembered the dagger instantly. The blade alone had taken her five iterations and a lot of frustration before she had been satisfied. The dagger had been a nameday gift to Durin before he was again crowned King. As far as Narvi knew the knife had been buried with him. "Durin's knife caught your attention?" She had expected his answer to be some of the architecture work she had done or perhaps one of the many full sets of armor she'd been commissioned to make for Durin's children. Not some silly little knife she'd made before she had even begun her Masterwork.

"Yes," Celebrimbor said. "I'm not sure why it did... but it was impressive. Durin showed me how sharp it was and bragged he had never once had to take a whetstone to the blade. I asked him who made it and he said one of his dear friends. It took quite a lot of wine to pry your name from him..."

"I'm surprised you were so insistent... it wasn't my best work," Narvi said.

Celebrimbor shrugged. "It was different. The blade was thinner than most Dwarves make and yet it still balanced perfectly with a hefty jeweled hilt... and the sharpness was indeed a marvel."

"... maybe I should remake it if you liked it so much," Narvi mused as she laid back down and tucked her head against his pulse thrumming through his back again. Her thumb brushed the side of his finger yet again as she pondered. "I’ll make a better one."

"You needn't do that."

Narvi hummed and closed her eyes. "I might not need to but I want to," she said. "But that's something for another day... you should rest, Khel. It's late."

"I'm not certain I will be able to settle into Reverie tonight, Narvi. I feel my memories too near," he murmured. 

"Can I help at all?" Narvi asked, her thumb still moving. She wasn’t entirely certain what would help but perhaps one of those tricks to help someone sleep would help here as well.

Celebrimbor shook his head slightly. "If you can sleep, I will listen to your breathing as it slows and perhaps find relaxation in that. I am otherwise quiet comfortable here. You have left me wanting for very little, Narvi."

Narvi wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea of going to sleep while he avoided his own Reverie, but considering the flash of temper he'd displayed earlier, she thought it best to let him do as he wished. At least for the moment. "... alright, but don't you hesitate to wake me or say something if you need me. I don't want to wake up and find you've been hiding things."

"I do not think I could even if I tried, Narvi..." he said. She could almost hear the smile in his voice. "You tend to see more when I try to hide things from you. It is most frustrating."

"You try too hard to act like you _aren't_ hiding things," Narvi told him. "It just makes it more obvious that you are."

Celebrimbor chuckled some, a strange set of vibrations against Narvi's cheek. "You are right, of course... I have never been particularly gifted with secrecy... even when countless lives were at stake."

"That was different," Narvi said instantly. "Releasing secrets under torture doesn't count as being bad at keeping them. Anyone would have told them what they wanted."

Celebrimbor sighed. "Narvi-"

"No," she interrupted. "I'll not listen to you putting yourself down about that again. If I hear it again I'll do something rash," she threatened.

"Such as?"

"I haven't thought of what it is yet... that's why it'll be rash," Narvi grumbled. "Now you promised me you would rest. So rest."

"I promised you I would relax," Celebrimbor corrected.

"Well then do that, you daft thing," Narvi ordered. Though her voice was a bit harsh her thumb never stopped the gentle back and forth across his fingers. She couldn't seem to control the movement in the least. Narvi was a little surprised that Celebrimbor hadn't said anything about her hand holding his, but was glad for it too. The subject seemed too awkward for her to talk about, especially while doing it.

"If it pleases you..."

"It does."

Celebrimbor hummed but didn't say anything else. Narvi wasn't sure how long she laid there wrapped around Celebrimbor's taller figure, but eventually the beating of his heart and their combined warmth lulled her to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again super huge thanks to PaperTigress for really helping me get a better chapter together! She's super duper helpful!

Narvi woke up and instantly noticed that the bed beside her was void of any elves. She rolled over onto her back and then sat up to look around the room. The soft glow of candlelight coming from the cracked open door of the bathroom told her where Celebrimbor had gone. "Did you get any rest at all last night?" Narvi asked when she saw the slightly damp but dressed elf return from the bathroom a few minutes later. 

Celebrimbor hesitated a moment and then shook his head. He was looking down at the ground and not at her. "I did try," he murmured, "but could not manage it."

"Can't say I'm surprised, but thank you for trying," Narvi admitted as she sat up fully. Celebrimbor looked entirely miserable and so Narvi waved for him to come back to the bed. "Come here, Khel. I’ll redo your braid." Hardly the first time she had taken the task upon herself since he’d returned to her, and she knew that it wouldn't be the last either.

“It is fine how it is, Narvi,” Celebrimbor argued as he raised a hand to brush a few wispy strands that had escaped the braid back behind his ear.

“Absolutely not,” Narvi said sternly. “I'd be ashamed to let a Pebble out with braids as messy as that! It won't take a moment to redo. Come! Sit!” she ordered as she hooked a nearby stool with her bare toes and dragged it into a better position beside the bed. She then stomped on it lightly to drive her point home. They’d had this particular conversation before, and he’d always lost to her determination.

Celebrimbor smiled ever so slightly and went to sit on a small stool she had dragged into position. "I am fairly certain even my mother was not as adamant about my hair as you are, Narvi."

Narvi snorted. "She probably gave up for her own sanity," Narvi commented as she grabbed up the comb from the side table. Narvi supposed that she should say something in an attempt to comfort Celebrimbor, but Narvi couldn't think of anything she thought would really help, so she focused on what she was doing instead.

As she used the narrow end of the comb to undo the single thick braid she had put it in for him last night, Narvi watched the tension that was in his shoulders slowly relax. Things between them remained quiet as she began to comb his locks. This tending of Celebrimbor's hair had become a regular part of their morning since he came back downstairs to sleep in her room, and she was thankful that he bore her fussing as the action always seemed to calm him. Narvi was very thorough and, by the time she had gotten half of his hair back in some semblance of order, Celebrimbor had fully relaxed in his seat.

As Narvi twisted the strands of fiery red together, she thought about what had happened last night. "Do you want me to ask Óin about your fingers?" she asked after a few more moments.

Celebrimbor stiffened at the question. She just continued to weave his hair together in her best imitation of an Elven style –although she could not help but add a few Dwarven flourishes here and there- and waited. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed again. "No… Not yet," he muttered with his hands clenched tightly in his lap. Narvi picked up the nearby hairpiece that was on the side table and started threading his braids through the golden loops. Narvi had made him another new one because she just couldn’t seem to stop herself. "I just… I can't. It's-"

"You don't have to explain, Khel," Narvi said before he could get himself worked up. "Really." The fact that he was even saying that someday he might be ready to try and repair his hands was more than enough for her. Narvi could work with ‘not yet’ where she couldn’t with only no.

Celebrimbor turned halfway to look over his shoulder at her. Narvi thought he might say something else. He didn't and slowly faced forward so that she could finish his hair. When Narvi finally did tie off the braid and let it rest against his back, Celebrimbor seemed to have regained the rest of his calm. Narvi reached for the clasp that wrapped around the curve of his head just enough to echo a bird with its wings fully displayed. Or at least, that was the effect Narvi had been aiming for and she was confident she’d managed it without the inspiration being too obvious.

Narvi studied the way the clasp looked holding his hair back and as she lowered her hand, allowed her fingers to run lightly over the braids. After a moment, Narvi realized she was staring at the clasp and gave herself a mental shake. Now was not the time to be admiring the look of her work in his hair. "Let me get changed and then we can go to breakfast," Narvi said as she got up from the bed.

Celebrimbor opened his mouth to reply but then hesitated. Narvi watched confusion cross his face. “I… you know, I actually am hungry,” Celebrimbor stated in bewilderment.

Narvi had to stop herself from pulling him into a crushing bear hug at the news. She had waited so long to hear him express any actual desire to eat. "That’s wonderful, Khel! I’ll hurry so we can get you fed" she said as she jumped from her perch on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Narvi wasn’t sure what had changed to bring back his appetite, but she wasn’t about to waste it. “You should make that thing you introduced me to last week!” she called loudly. “It was very good!” And, as Óin had said at the time, very nutritious. 

Narvi quickly finished her morning routine and came back out of the bathroom. Celebrimbor hadn't seemed to have moved at all. "I am glad you enjoyed my cooking so much that you now request it, _mellon nin,_ " he said as he stood back up.

"Really? You waited this long to reply to that?" she asked as she grabbed her boots from where they stayed by the wall and pulled them on.

"I'm not going to yell at you while you are in the bathroom, Narvi," Celebrimbor said.

She huffed in exasperation. "Elves."

"Dwarves," he replied in nearly the exact same tone.

Narvi sighed and shook her head. "Come on then,” she said as she led the way out of the room. Celebrimbor was right behind her and Narvi didn’t bother fighting the urge to grin.

They did not make it to the kitchen. Galadriel was waiting for them in the entryway to the kitchen with Glorfindel beside her looking as if he had only just dismounted his horse moments earlier. Narvi wouldn’t be surprised if they went outside and found that the beast hadn’t even been put with Galadriel’s in the small fenced area on the other side of the pool.

Celebrimbor stiffened beside her. “I find I am not hungry anymore, Narvi,” he whispered morosely. Narvi swore under her breath and fought the urge to storm over and start yelling the foulest words she knew at the pair of Elves and perhaps hit them for their thoughtlessness. Celebrimbor forced his posture even straighter than it already was and walked forward to stop in front of his cousin and friend. “Glorfindel,” Celebrimbor greeted.

“Celebrimbor,” Glorfindel’s voice had a quality that Narvi hadn’t ever heard from him before and she wasn’t sure that she liked it in the least. Glorfindel’s eyes shimmered in a strange way and he looked as if he wanted to reach out for Celebrimbor, but the redhead had stopped just outside of easy reach. “I am joyed to see you alive.”

Celebrimbor gave a jerk with his head that Narvi thought was probably supposed to be a nod. “You brought something for me?” he asked.

Glorfindel opened his mouth but then Galadriel laid a hand on his bicep. “It would be best to just show him the drawing and have your reunion at a different time,” she said. Glorfindel looked to her for a moment and seemed to want to argue. Galadriel just continued to look at him and then Glorfindel gave a slow nod.

Narvi stepped forward and gently bumped into his hip with her shoulder to remind Celebrimbor she was there and offer support. Celebrimbor glanced down at her with the smallest hint of relief in his face and put his hand on the shoulder she had just nudged him with. His hand was trembling against her. Narvi reached up and gave his twisted fingers a brief squeeze while turning her eyes to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel still looked reluctant as he pulled a folded up piece of parchment from his belt. "Though we know several Dwarven rings were destroyed when they were devoured by drakes," he said as he held the folded paper out. “Some He took back from the Dwarves before He was defeated.” Celebrimbor didn't look surprised to hear that, and Narvi wasn't certain if he had guessed, had known of it before his death on Arda-marred or was about to return to a catatonic state. She squeezed his fingers hard until he blinked and glanced back down at her, reassuring her that the last, at least was not about to happen.

"Nobody we've asked has been able to make sense of the runes along the band of the ring that the Dwarf drew so we think that he misremembered them,” Glorfindel continued. “Tis not unexpected, given the brevity of his time and the limited light, that he did not remember them as truly as they might have been writ."

Celebrimbor stared at it for a few long moments before reaching out to take it with the hand that was not resting in Narvi’s. “Some of your apprentices said it appeared familiar while others said it was definitely not one of the rings of power,” Galadriel offered, “and we must be certain.” Celebrimbor unfolded the paper and finally looked down. Narvi was expecting some sort of reaction. Whether relief from it not being a Ring of Power or, in her opinion the less likely option, something terrible. The Elven smith continued to study the drawing without even a single hint of what he was thinking for several minutes.

"Khel?" Narvi asked when the silence went on longer than she thought it would.

Celebrimbor didn’t answer right away and instead shifted the paper so that it better caught the light from the nearby sconces. Narvi could make out a ring with a rectangular cut stone and the thick band that wrapped around it on the paper, but little else.

"You're right… the runes are wrong. Complete gibberish," Celebrimbor murmured without looking up. Narvi felt apprehension building even as it morphed into alarm. There should have been no sort of recognition at all from Celebrimbor. "You said a Dwarf found this?"

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes. While they were excavating some caves. It's gone missing again."

"That is odd," Celebrimbor said.

"That is it missing or that a Dwarf found it?" Glorfindel asked sounding almost as apprehensive as Narvi.

Celebrimbor ran a finger along the paper in his hands. “That it was found by a Dwarf.” Celebrimbor finally looked up, and Narvi hated the raw pain that she could see in his pretty blue eyes. "This ring was made for a Lord of Men."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sitting here doing editing with dozens of word documents full of different stories and notes for those stories and what not open, music going, and tea sitting here for me to keep my caffeine pumping when I get a random call. I need to go to Washington D.C. like... five minutes ago. To hell with my twitter promise of getting an update out this weekend. 
> 
> So, this posting is my rough draft since I have no idea when I'll be back home tonight and get back to what I was doing. I'll update it in the next few days hopefully with the edited version I have half done. Hope that won't put anyone off but I have to go fight D.C traffic... in the rain. It's going to be joyous...

Celebrimbor suddenly became aware that he was in bed with Narvi pressed tightly against his back with her arms locked around his waist. He was confused. Celebrimbor was positive that just a moment ago he had been standing in the hallway with Narvi at his side. He vaguely recalled some words being said and beginning to walk away but then nothing else. He sighed and lifted a hand to rub at his face. He had not meant to get entrapped in his own memories again and judging by his sudden displacement he indeed had been.

Narvi suddenly inhaled sharply and jerked her head up as if waking. "Khel?"

"I'm here, Narvi," Celebrimbor murmured. "I am sorry. Has it been long?"

"Most of the day," Narvi said as she pushed herself on one arm so that she could peer over his shoulder at his face. "You should eat something. Or at the very least drink something."

"I am not terribly hungry," Celebrimbor said. Even if his desire to eat hadn't been driven from him before looking at the drawing, the memories he had just woken from would have ensured he wouldn't eat.

Narvi sighed. "Óin left some tea that I can heat up for you. Will you at least have some of that?" she asked. Celebrimbor nodded. The tea did help when he was troubled, and that was a good enough word for his current mindset. Narvi nodded and got up to grab her thick robe from where it was draped over the end of the bed. "I'll be back with some then. Just wait here."

Celebrimbor watched Narvi leave the room before letting his head fall back down to the pillow. Celebrimbor wished that his mind had not pulled him back like that because he knew that Narvi would worry about him even more than before. He didn't like worrying her and yet he couldn't seem to not do so. Narvi had just been relaxing her vigilance again, and then this had happened.

Celebrimbor was only lying in bed for what felt like a minute or two before Narvi came back. Although, he knew it had to have been longer than it felt like because the mug she was carrying was indeed steaming. Celebrimbor pushed himself up to sit with his back against the wonderfully carved headboard as Narvi held out the tea for him. Celebrimbor offered his best attempt at a smile as he took the mug. Narvi climbed up beside him on the bed and resettled against the headboard like he was. There were several minutes of silence between the two of them. "I was starting to worry," Narvi said finally. "You haven't been like that since you first came back. It was as if nothing I said was reaching you."

"I'm sorry. The memories came upon me so suddenly that I didn't even have a moment to warn you," Celebrimbor said as he rotated the mug between his hands. He stared down at the steaming amber liquid and tried his best to forget the frighteningly detailed memories he had been caught within. The dungeons haunted him, but he honestly hadn't expected a drawing of one of the rings to trigger such a flashback.

"I'm more worried about you than whether or not I was warned, Khel," Narvi said with more than a little exasperation. "Galadriel and Glorfindel will be leaving tomorrow, so you don't have to worry about them asking questions or anything else."

Celebrimbor ran his fingers over the edge of the mug. "They will most likely need to ask me questions though, Narvi." He knew that what he'd confirmed implied horrible things and they would want, they would need, more answers.

"Later," Narvi said firmly. "And you're meant to drink that."

A small smile curved Celebrimbor's mouth. "I will," he assured her. "Thank you for heating it up for me." To make sure that Narvi didn't pester him further he took a careful sip of the hot tea. Again the strength of the herbs was partially masked by the wild honey that had been added. Óin had apparently given Narvi very complete instructions for making it for him. Celebrimbor realized that probably shouldn't surprise him. He took another cautious sip and felt a strange tension in the core of his chest that he hadn't even realized he carried ease from the soothing mixture.

"Even _I_ can heat up tea that's already made," Narvi sighed. "Óin had a few words for our visitors about making you collapse like that. He got back from visiting his family around midday, by the way."

Celebrimbor looked at her. "Only Óin had something to say?" he asked skeptically. He knew Narvi far too well to believe she had gone almost a whole day worrying about him without having a harsh word or two against the other two elves.

Narvi didn't look in the least put off by the question. "I'd already told them what I thought about it before he got here. Glorfindel at least apologized not that that did much good." Celebrimbor thought, briefly, about telling her that there was no reason for them to apologize at all but thought better of doing so considering it would most likely agitate her more. Instead, he just sipped his tea and let the herbs soothe his mind. They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Narvi turned. "Do you want me to get Óin for you?"

"No, there's not anything he'd be able to do," Celebrimbor murmured into his mug. "I've not been wounded."

"Maybe not physically," Narvi grumbled. "I take it you don't want to talk about it then?"

Celebrimbor shook his head. "You wouldn't want to hear anything that I remembered."

"It's not about what I want but what you need," Narvi said. She reached down to where his knee was underneath the bed covers and gave the joint a light but comforting squeeze. "I want to help even if it's not pleasant for me to hear."

Celebrimbor had no intention of telling Narvi anything at all, but the unusually soft expression on her face had his tongue taking on a mind of its own. "After I told him where I had sent the Nine, they joined him. I don't know how long it took between my weakness and their arrival, but when they got to the fortress, it was horrible."

"What happened wasn't your fault, and it wasn't weakness," Narvi said firmly. Celebrimbor's eyes drifted down to her hand on his knee and watched as her thumb moved back and forth, probably without her realizing what she was doing. "You were tortured, Khel. Nobody can withstand that forever."

"I could have died sooner," Celebrimbor muttered as he twisted the half-empty mug in his hands again. "That would have saved so many lives if I had just let go and fled to Mandos' halls. I don't know why I didn't. I knew that nobody would be able to get to me once I was in the fortress and yet I just kept living for some reason..."

Narvi wasn't entirely sure how to respond to such a statement. In a way, him passing earlier would have spared him so much pain and self-imposed guilt that he didn't deserve, but Narvi had no way of knowing how feasible it was that Celebrimbor could have _made_ himself die earlier than he had. She knew it was possible for Elves to separate their souls from their bodies however there was no indication of how hard that was for them to do. After a long minute of silent thought, Narvi turned and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Celebrimbor was stiff at first but then slowly relaxed into Narvi's embrace and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. "You shouldn't dwell on 'what if's, Khel. None of it matters now."

"I was selfish," Celebrimbor said.

"Khel, you are one of the least selfish people I know," Narvi argued as she ran her fingers through his hair comfortingly. "Not dying is not a sin."

"It feels like one. Especially when my death could have done more good than my life," his voice was slightly muffled against her shoulder and neck.

Narvi tightened her arms around him but made sure to not crush his still far too delicate feeling frame. "It was not your fault."

"You've said that..."

"And I will continue to say it until you damn well believe what I tell you, Khel," Narvi said firmly. "Neither Galadriel nor Glorfindel blame you, Óin does not blame you, I don't blame you, nobody blames you!"

Celebrimbor sighed, and Narvi couldn't quite help the shiver that went down her spine at the feeling of his breath against her skin. "You cannot possibly speak for everyone, Narvi. I am sure that there are plenty that would blame me and not without reason."

Narvi scowled but didn't confirm that. There were always those in the world that blamed people that they shouldn't. Narvi would like to see how self-righteous those that did would be if they'd had to endure what Celebrimbor had. They would undoubtedly have told all their secrets as well. Probably faster. "Any who would blame you would be idiots not worthy of our attention," she finally said.

Celebrimbor leaned more against Narvi and allowed more tension to ease from his body. He closed his eyes and just absorbed the comfort and warmth that she so readily provided. He wasn't entirely convinced of the truth of her words, but they did make him feel better. "Thank you, Narvi. You are a great comfort."

"That's what friends are for, _'arstunz_ ," Narvi said as she finally pulled back slightly.

Celebrimbor smiled and lifted a hand to cup her cheek. Narvi felt her breath catch but couldn't even begin to pretend to be offended. She had put her hands in his hair first. "Thank you," he murmured as his fingers traced the edge of her beard where her skin was exposed. The uneven sensation of the pad of his finger running along the line of her beard was so oddly enjoyable she was left unsure how to react. Narvi managed to not tremble too badly as the Elven Smith's fingertips seemed to trail a tingling sensation where they touched.

"You're welcome," she murmured. She didn't want to break the moment before it was absolutely necessary. Celebrimbor continued to run his fingers over the edge of her beard up towards her ear and then back down again, seemingly fascinated by the line that it made. Narvi realized she should probably pull back, but there was an odd expression on his face that she was trying to puzzle out. Celebrimbor was most certainly focused on what he was doing but not in the same way that he was when puzzling out an engineering or forging problem.

Celebrimbor finally moved his hand away and sat back against the headboard. His eyes were still fixed with an almost unsettling intensity on her face, but he didn't reach for her again. "You should rest, Narvi. I know you could not have been sleeping well while waiting for me to return from my memories," he murmured as his disjointed fingers picked at their comforter.

Narvi frowned. "What about you?" Going to sleep so soon after he had been upset like that didn't sit well with her in the least. What if something happened and he needed her help?

"I will be fine," Celebrimbor said. "I have my tea, and it is quiet. I already know that I will not be able to return to Reverie tonight. It would not be fair to you to force yourself to keep me company. Especially when you have already stayed up to keep watch over me during my... episode." Still, Narvi hesitated and Celebrimbor sighed. "Please, Narvi? I wouldn't wish to keep you up any longer than I already have."

"Will you wake me if you need me?" Narvi questioned. Celebrimbor promised, and so Narvi huffed, "Oh fine then. But finish your tea." Celebrimbor took a sip to prove that he would and Narvi finally relented. She laid down and grumbled about stubborn Elves as she closed her eyes. Celebrimbor smiled at her complaints while sipping the remainder of his tea.

Narvi didn't fall asleep instantly by any stretch of the imagination but by the time Celebrimbor finished his remaining half cup of herbal tea she had settled and Celebrimbor could tell she had finally drifted off. The Elf reached over and put the mug down on their shared side table and then moved down to lay beside Narvi. The craftswoman said something unintelligible as Celebrimbor wrapped his arms around her.

Lying beside Narvi was very soothing, but after several hours of being curled up with her, Celebrimbor grew restless. He didn't so much as entertain the idea of waking Narvi seeing how much of the night she'd already devoted to him. Instead, he carefully detangled himself from the bedding and then tucked them back in place over his companion. Narvi grumbled again in her sleep and Celebrimbor, after a moment's hesitation, dared to lean down and press a soft kiss to her braided hair near her ear. "I will be back, _meleth_ ," he whispered before straightening.

Celebrimbor took the mug from the side table and silently made his way toward the kitchen. The kitchen was slightly out of order, probably from the others using it rather than him the day before, and so he spent a few minutes putting things back in their proper places.

Celebrimbor then made his way outside. The air was chilly enough that there was a layer of frost covering everything. The sky was turning pink and yellow from the distant rising sun although a few of the brightest stars were still visible. Distant birds were beginning to sing to each other as they woke up and a few insects chirped from nearby bushes. A family of ducks was curled up at the edge of the water nestled in some long grasses. Celebrimbor meandered over to the edge of the pond as he watched the streaks of colors spread across the sky. The male duck lifted its head but then went back to sleep when it saw the Elven smith.

The last of the stars were disappearing completely when Celebrimbor heard soft steps behind him. He turned halfway and spotted Glorfindel approaching. Glorfindel stopped perhaps ten feet away as Celebrimbor turned his gaze back to the sky. After a few minutes, Glorfindel broke the silence between them. "I'm glad to see you up this morning. I was worried when you collapsed yesterday."

"My apologies for worrying anyone," Celebrimbor answered. "It was simply a bit more than what I was prepared for."

"I'm sorry to have put you through that," Glorfindel said.

"You put me through nothing. I chose to face it. It was no one's fault that my memories got the better of me. I'm sorry that Narvi most likely gave you a tongue lashing for it. She is so very protective," Celebrimbor murmured still without looking back. The ducks were roused by now and starting to move away from the reeds they had been sleeping in during the night.

Glorfindel laughed briefly. "Yes, she is. And I am glad for it, so there is nothing to forgive," he said as he stepped forward a few steps to half the gap between them. "... I understand now why you were hiding from me." Celebrimbor almost turned but caught himself. He didn't want to acknowledge that he had been 'hiding' even though he couldn't honestly deny the truth of the description. "I always did wonder about the Nazgûl and how they lingered so long. I knew you wouldn't have deliberately enchanted the rings to extend their lives no matter who else was using trickery... but I didn't even come close to guessing what was done."

"Had you done, I would have been shocked," Celebrimbor muttered as his eyes drifted down to watch the surface of the pool ripple. "Even I had not thought it possible and I was always sure about how clever I was."

"You are clever," Glorfindel said. Celebrimbor didn't say anything in response to that. A pair of strong arms wrapped around Celebrimbor and the redheaded elf couldn't help but stiffen. "I'm sorry, Celebrimbor," Glorfindel murmured. "I wish I could do something to help."

After a moment, Celebrimbor forced himself to relax his posture just a little so that Glorfindel would hopefully not notice. Celebrimbor raised a hand and wrapped his crooked fingers around Glorfindel's forearm. "There is something that I do think you can help with..." he murmured. "If you are willing."

"Anything," Glorfindel said.

"Tell me how he was ended," Celebrimbor said. "The Witch King. I have not heard much beyond the fact that he was. I would like to know who did such a thing."

Glorfindel was quiet for a moment before he gently rested his chin on Celebrimbor's shoulder. "It was no man, but then I knew it wouldn't be. He had thrown down the King of Rohan and was about to set his foul winged beast upon him when the King's sister-daughter Èowyn disguised as a man stepped forward. Between her and the halfing Meriadoc, he was finally ended." Quiet settled over the pair. Glorfindel wondered if he should add more to the story but decided against it. If Celebrimbor wanted more information, he would ask. "Does that help, my friend?"

"Help? I don't know. It answers the question, which is good, I suppose. And it doesn't change anything, I just needed to know. For my own peace of mind. I felt him and Khamûl perish, but I did not know how it happened and I did not want to upset Narvi by asking," Celebrimbor explained.

"Galadriel dealt with Khamûl," Glorfindel supplied. "In a way, I feel that the Nazgûl that perished then were quite lucky. If Narvi had ever had a chance to lay her hands on them their death would have been much more painful, I am sure. And now those that escaped are revealed to still be lingering here - if much reduced. I would be quite fearful if I were them."

"You are right," Celebrimbor murmured as he continued to stare at the water that was beginning to reflect the first rays of the sun that were breaking through the trees. "They should be afraid of her."

Glorfindel lifted his head to look at his friend. "Have you told her yet?"

"Told her what?" Celebrimbor asked.

"You know what," Glorfindel said unamused.

"I'm sure I don't," Celebrimbor replied while moving away. Glorfindel allowed it and dropped his arms with a sigh. He had already pressured Celebrimbor more than he felt he should have. Celebrimbor looked up at the sky again for a moment and then turned to start walking back to the house entrance. "If you'll excuse me, I have to make breakfast."

Glorfindel was about to say something but again reconsidered. He wasn't blind, and he had helped Narvi get Celebrimbor into bed the day before, but he couldn't force his friend to admit things when he didn't wish it. Celebrimbor was understandably very closed off currently, but he was also stubborn. Trying to force the issue would do nothing but push Celebrimbor further into himself and Glorfindel would much rather not have that happen. Instead, he was just left standing by the water feeling spectacularly useless.


End file.
